


Girl's Night Out Therapy

by BstnStrg13



Category: Arrow (TV 2012), Lucifer (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-18
Updated: 2018-07-16
Packaged: 2018-09-09 12:59:50
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 36,747
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8891749
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BstnStrg13/pseuds/BstnStrg13
Summary: Girl's night out has become a regular thing for Lucifer Morningstar's four favorite women.  On this particular evening, they're joined by a young blonde from Star City with her own set of problems.   As the drinks flow, Linda performs a little therapy.  The girls later join Felicity in Star City, with Oliver Queen and John Constantine making an appearance.





	1. Felicity's Therapy

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [The Physics of Lies](https://archiveofourown.org/works/5473007) by [BstnStrg13](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BstnStrg13/pseuds/BstnStrg13). 



> I watch both Lucifer and Arrow, and this story popped into my head because Felicity Smoak looks a lot like a younger version of Linda Martin.  
> I love the women on Lucifer. Their personalities are distinct and developing all the time. The humor they've added to Maze in season 2, for example, makes her more interesting and really works. I also love Felicity Smoak (Arrow) and have always felt like she needed a real girlfriend to talk to for support. (Sorry, Laurel doesn't count here -- at least for me. For all that she became more likeable in S4, she's never struck me as very bright.)
> 
> So, this was an opportunity for Felicity to explore her issues with some sympathetic women.

The four women seated around the table in a dimly lit Los Angeles drinking spot certainly fit the stereotype.  Each of them was attractive in her unique way, each had her own set of troubles, and each had a demanding job.  In fact, they could almost serve as the first line of an old joke:  _A shrink, a bounty hunter, a detective and a forensic scientist_ _walk into a bar_ …

Together, they formed a Girl’s Night Out.  GNO.  By definition, a small group of women knocking back alcohol in a variety of forms, while sharing frustrations with male stupidity, the stress of their careers, and the challenge of finding shoes that are comfortable _and_ styling at the same time. GNO was happening everywhere – hundreds of them in the LA region alone.  Nothing special about it.

Except… in this particular GNO happening at this particular LA bar, the bounty hunter was really a demon come to earth from hell and the shrink was the therapist to the Devil himself.  Hardly your standard Girl’s Night Out material – and a little ironic if you remembered that LA is the _City of Angels_.  The detective and forensic scientist really _were_ a detective and a forensic scientist with the LAPD, but their lives, too, were entwined with the strange and the supernatural -- even if they didn’t fully understand that yet.  So despite outward appearances, the four good-looking women having drinks that evening were most definitely _not_ your typical Girl’s Night Out.

The force that brought them together, these four very different women, came from one man.  Well, sort of a man, more of a fallen angel.  Lucifer Morningstar.  Intelligent, attractive, complicated and infuriating.  Owner of the club, Lux, and on a permanent vacation from minding the gates of hell – although the detective and forensic scientist didn’t know about that last part.  It was probably just as well.  The therapist had only recently learned it herself, despite hours of sessions with him, and was still coming to grips with it.  All four women were at alternate times attracted to and repelled by Lucifer.  He could be helpful, or he could be selfish.  He could do something surprisingly thoughtful or he could completely forget you when you needed him most.  In short, he was great fodder for Girl’s Night Out.

This evening’s GNO began like so many before.   Linda Martin, the de facto leader of The Tribe (as they called themselves) was asking each woman about her day.  Linda had gotten the role partly on the basis of her profession (therapist) and age (a little older than the rest of the girls), but mostly because of her ability to maintain an even emotional keel when life got crazy.  Linda could be counted on to put things in perspective, and was a master at the therapist’s art of leading people to their truth by asking questions.  It was a handy skill to have on Girl’s Night Out.   The fact that she could do it without being annoying had earned the other women’s appreciation.  The fact that she could also do it with a couple of vodka martinis under her belt had earned their respect.

She started with Detective Chloe Decker, because Chloe carried a _lot_ of emotional baggage.  A single parent in the midst of a divorce, the detective was haunted by being essentially in the same job that had killed her dad years before.  Her soon-to-be ex-husband, Dan, was a loving but unreliable father, often backing out of dad-duty at the last minute.  There were many nights when Chloe showed up ready to implode and Linda considered it an accomplishment when she and the other women could get the detective to loosen up.  Chloe’s beauty came in the form of large blue eyes, long sandy hair, and a thin, athletic build.  One look at Chloe’s expressive eyes usually told Linda all she needed to know about how the Detective’s day had gone.

“I almost didn’t make it tonight,” Chloe grumbled as joined them at the table.  “Dan forgot to pick Trixie up at school and I had to call him four times before he finally answered his phone and remembered it was his night to have her.  I don’t know what’s going on with him.  He never was completely dependable, but lately it seems like it’s worse than ever.”

Mazikeen, successful bounty hunter and – unbeknownst to the LAPD women – a demon from hell, shrugged.  “It’s probably because he’s banging--,” she began.

“I don’t think it will help Chloe if we analyze Dan’s behavior tonight,” Linda interrupted, giving Maze a meaningful stare as she nodded subtly toward the detective.  “We can’t change other people.  Apart from Chloe telling Dan how inconsiderate he’s being, there isn’t much she can do to make him act differently.  She can only decide how she’s going to deal with it.”

Maze frowned and took a swig from her beer bottle.  “I don’t know about not changing people.  I could rough him up a little the next time he forgets his daughter.  It’ll make him think twice.  That is,” she added when Linda glared at her again, “if Chloe doesn’t mind.”

Chloe looked as though she were considering it.   After a minute she wrinkled her nose and shook her head.  “No, it’s probably not a good idea.  He might tell Trixie how he got banged up.”  She gave Maze a weak smile.  “You’ve got a good relationship with my daughter.  She likes having you live with us and she trusts you.  I don’t want to ruin that.”

Maze looked touched -- or at least as touched as it was possible for an exotic, darkly beautiful demon to look.  “Thanks, Chloe.  Appreciate it.  I like your daughter, too.  She’s not bad…for an annoying little human.”

Chloe, unaware of the whole demon thing, never quite understood Maze’s odd references to humans.  Still, she knew the last statement was intended as a compliment so she simply said, “Thanks.”

The table fell silent as each woman took the opportunity to swallow her GNO drink of choice; Maze almost always went for beer, Linda was sticking with her favorite martini, and Chloe -- the most reluctant drinker of the four -- had opted for Cosmo’s this evening.  Ella, the forensic scientist and free spirit, was drinking Mojito’s.  She put her glass down and peered curiously across the mood-lit room.

“I wonder what’s up with that girl?” she asked, pointing not very subtly toward the bar.

Linda narrowed her eyes and tried to follow the direction of Ella’s finger.  “Which girl?”

“By herself.  Glasses, with blonde, shoulder length hair.  Drinking red wine.”

Maze leaned forward in her chair and nodded as her eyes latched onto Ella’s target.  “I see her.”  She turned toward Linda with a grin.  “You know, with those glasses and that hair she’s kind of a Mini-You,” she remarked.  “I can see you looking just like that a few years ago.”

Linda tilted her head to the side and studied the girl.  “Hmmm.  I’d like to think I was that pretty at her age.”  After a minute she added softly, “She doesn’t look very happy, though.”

“No,” Ella agreed, “she doesn’t.  I was wondering if she’s in some kind of trouble.”

Maze frowned.  “I’m not too good yet with all the human emotion shit,” she said bluntly. “But even I can see that something’s not right.  She doesn’t seem like the kind of girl who would normally hang out by herself in a bar.  I wonder what brought her here.”

The four women stopped staring at the girl and looked around the table at each other.

“I think we should ask,” Ella said.

Chloe snuck another glance at the girl.  “She might tell us to mind our own business.”

Ella shrugged.  “If she does, that’s okay.  I don’t think she will, though.  I think she needs to talk.”

Linda smiled.  “I do, too.”

Maze cracked her knuckles and took another swallow of beer.  “I’m game.  If nothing else, it’ll satisfy my curiosity.”

“Great.”  And before anyone could say anything further, Ella was out of her chair and heading toward the bar.  The three other women watched as she approached the blonde, touching her arm and leaning forward to talk in her ear.   The blonde looked startled at first, but Ella’s infectious grin soon had the girl nodding and following the forensic scientist’s finger as she pointed back to the table.  She said something in return, then picked up her wine and slid off the bar stool, following Ella to where the other women were seated.

“Glad you could join us,” Linda said cordially as the blonde sat down.  “We hope we’re not imposing.  We just couldn’t help noticing that you looked a little…out of your element.”

The blonde shrugged.  “Maybe a little.  I don’t live in LA.  I was supposed to fly back home tonight, but my flight was cancelled so I’m not leaving til tomorrow morning.  I didn’t feel like sitting around the airport or in my hotel room, and it’s been a while since I’ve been to a bar.”

“And where’s home for you?”

“Star City.”

Chloe Decker smiled.  “I’ve never been there, but I hear it’s a nice city.   And your new mayor is _hot_!  Star City always sounded like a more grounded place than LA to me.  We probably seem a little crazy to you down here.”

The girl shrugged again.  “I grew up in Las Vegas.  I’ve seen my fair share of crazy.”

Maze’s eyes lit up.  “Las Vegas!  Really?  I’d like to go there -- I’ve heard so much about it.  I mean, they call it Sin City.  How great is that?”

Chloe shook her head.  “We have enough sin right here in LA.”

The blonde glanced between the two of them.  “In my experience, _every_ city has enough sin in it.  It’s just a little less hidden in Vegas.  My name is Felicity, by the way.”

“Oh hell, where are our manners?” the therapist asked the table in general. “It’s nice to meet you, Felicity.  I’m Linda.  And this is Chloe, Ella and Maze.”  She pointed to each of the women in turn.  “Welcome to our Tribe.”

“Your _Tribe_?”

“It’s what the four of us call our support system.  We’re here for each other; to share what’s happening in our lives, try to solve each other’s problems…or at least listen to each other complain about them.  Mostly we’re here just to drink and kick back.”

Felicity looked thoughtful.  “That sounds nice.  I could use a tribe back home.  I’m mostly surrounded by men, and half the time they’re the problem.”

“Amen to that, sister.” Maze leaned across the table and tapped her beer bottle gently against Felicity’s wine glass.

“What’s brought you to LA?” Ella asked.

Felicity took a sip of her wine.  “I drove up to Silicon Valley for a couple of job interviews.”

Ella grinned eagerly. “Silicon Valley?  Are you in Tech?  I’m a forensic scientist with the LAPD and I _love_ technology.  I can talk geek with the best of them.”

“I’m in IT.  I’ve got a good friend in Central City who’s a forensic scientist.  What do the rest of you do?”

They circled around the table.

“Therapist.”

“Detective.”

“Bounty hunter…and demon.”

There was a pause while the women stared at Maze.

“She’s kidding about the demon part,” Ella explained to Felicity.  “She likes saying that, for some reason.”

Felicity regarded Maze carefully.  The woman’s fondness for black leather could just be a fashion choice, but it also seemed consistent with what you might expect from a demon -- at least one in LA.  Oddly, the look worked for her, complimenting her dark hair and mocha skin.  After a minute Felicity said uncertainly, “Are you…are you _really_ kidding?  I mean, you would be very beautiful for a demon, but I’ve seen enough to be pretty sure they exist.  I spent time in a place called Nanda Parbat.  And I met this guy named Constantine who--”

“You know Constantine?”  Maze’s voice was sharp.

Felicity looked startled.  “Not well,” she said quickly. “He’s more a friend of a friend.  But he has some stories about hell that sound pretty real.  Real enough to hope I never get anywhere near there – and to make me nervous about demons in general.”

Maze nodded.  “Constantine is bad-ass.  I don’t like him, but I have to say I respect him.  He’s one of the few people I’ve met who can come to hell and then leave it again – and do a lot of damage when he gets there.” She grinned at Felicity.  “And you don’t need to worry about me.  My job was to torture people who belonged in hell.  I can tell already that’s _not_ you.”

Linda cleared her throat.  “I think we’re getting a little off topic, ladies,” she said, giving the bounty hunter yet another meaningful look.  “Leaving Maze’s demon… _metaphor_ …aside, we asked Felicity to join us so that she could take advantage of the Tribe to share whatever might be troubling her…if she wishes.”

“That’s right,” Ella chimed in.  She turned toward the young blonde.  “You looked like you had a lot on your mind when you were sitting at the bar.  We were wondering if we could help.”

Felicity glanced around the table, flushing slightly.  It was apparent to everyone that she wanted to share but was unsure about doing it.  She nervously played with her wine glass and opened her mouth several times as if to speak – and then stopped.  Finally, she began slowly, “There’s this guy…”

“I knew it!” Maze said triumphantly, before Felicity could say anything more.  “I knew it was a guy.  You had _asshole boyfriend_ face on when we first saw you.  What exactly has the bastard done?”

Felicity shook her head.  “It would be unfair to pin all of this on him.  I’m partly to blame, too.”

“I doubt that.  You seem very nice.  I wouldn’t be at all surprised if a man tried to take advantage of you.”

“Now, girls!  Linda held up one hand to take command of the table.  “Let’s let Felicity tell her story without jumping to conclusions.”   The older blonde pushed her martini aside and her regular companions grinned at each other as they recognized her shift into therapist mode.  They’d all been on the receiving end at one time or another; now it was someone else’s turn.   “Why don’t you start from the beginning, Felicity?” she asked calmly.

The younger woman replied cautiously, “It could be a long story.”

“That’s okay.  We’ve got time, and the bar won’t run out of alcohol.”

“Right.”  Felicity glanced around the table and took a deep breath. “I’ve known…Oliver,” she hesitated over the name, “for close to five years.  I first met him at work and he was even my boss for a little while.  I was attracted to him right from the beginning, although also maybe a little afraid of him.”

Chloe, the cop, jumped all over that one.  “Afraid of him?  Why?  Was he violent?” she asked.

“No,” Felicity shook her head, “or at least never with me,” she amended.  “He was just very intense… and secretive.” After a pause she added, “He still is.”  

“I see,” Linda said.  “Go on.”

“It took a while, but Oliver eventually opened up to me in our first year.  Not about everything, but about some of his big secrets.  We spent a lot of time together and got to be close friends -- and I kept feeling like there was something more between us.  He was always touching my shoulder or my hand, and if I needed help, he’d be there in a second.  I didn’t want to admit it to myself at the time, but I was falling in love with him.”

Linda nodded encouragingly, but didn’t say anything.

“It went on like that for a couple of years; were together a lot, but not _together_ together, if you know what I mean.  During that time Oliver dated several women – a couple casually and one pretty seriously.  It was hard to watch and there were a few times I felt like walking away, but I knew my friendship and…support…meant a lot to him.  And the work I was doing was fulfilling for me.  So I stuck around.”

Felicity paused to take a sip of wine.  “And?” Maze prompted.

“And after a little more than two years, he told me that he loved me.”

“That’s great,” Ella smiled warmly.  The other women nodded.

“He told me that he loved me,” Felicity continued, “but that he couldn’t be with me.  He said that he’d been living his life almost as two people, and he didn’t think he could be the Oliver I loved.  He said he couldn’t be with _anyone_.”

“Fuck,” said Maze.  “I _hate_ when they do that.”

Chloe looked at Maze and raised one eyebrow.

Maze shrugged.  “Lucifer’s brother, Amenadiel.  He and I…” She glanced at Linda and her voice dwindled.  “Oh hell, never mind.  This is about Felicity, not me…”

“Right,” Linda said.  “This is about Felicity.  So…Oliver told you he loved you but that he couldn’t be with you.  Why do you think he said that?”

Felicity slowly shook her head.  “I’m not sure.  I think it was his way of trying to be noble – to not let me get involved with him when he knew he couldn’t always be there for me.  Except, when I think about it, I also think it was kind of selfish – and maybe his justification for avoiding an emotional entanglement.  When he was young, he was a serial dater and never got too serious.  I sometimes wonder if forever with one person scares him.”

Linda pursed her lips.  “That’s one way of reading the situation, Felicity.  I trust you understand that you’re seeing all of this through your own filters.  So how did you deal with knowing he loved you but wouldn’t be with you?”

“Well, at the time -- a couple of years ago -- I started seeing someone else.”

Maze grinned.  “Good for you.  Make that jerk, Oliver, wake up and see what he’s missing.”

Felicity frowned.  “That really wasn’t my intent.  I was just tired of being alone and when I met Ray he was so nice…and persistent.  On paper, he and I were perfect for one another.  He loves tech too, and he was tall and sexy and good in bed.  We worked together and dated pretty intensely, and in any other circumstances we probably would still be together.  Except…”

“Except?” Linda encouraged.

“Except that I was still in love with Oliver.  I never got over him and he was still a part of my life – he’d go away, but then come back again.  And it didn’t seem fair to Ray to be with _him_ when I was in love with someone else.  So I ended things with Ray.”

“And you were back to being alone? That must have been hard.”

“For a little while.”  Felicity glanced down at her wine glass and smiled suddenly, a warm smile that made her blue eyes sparkle behind her glasses.  “Until Oliver finally decided he _could_ be with me – that he _wanted_ to be with me.   And then we took a break from all the crap in our lives and travelled the world for a couple of months, going to beautiful, exotic places and spending just about every moment together.  And when we got back to the U.S. things were still good – so we moved in together.  It was fantastic.”  She hesitated and then added, “And after a few months, he proposed.”

Ella and Chloe grinned.  It seemed like the happy ending to the story.  Linda, with her sharper therapist’s instincts, looked thoughtful.   And Maze…Maze appeared downright impatient.  When Felicity didn’t continue, the demon said sharply, “Well, that can’t be the end of it.  If it were, you wouldn’t be sitting in a bar in LA wearing _asshole boyfriend_ face.  So what happened?”

Felicity’s smile faded and she swirled the small amount of wine that remained in her glass.  “What happened is that I found out Oliver was keeping a secret from me.  The secret was major, although not necessarily bad.  I could have lived with it, maybe even _helped_ him with it.  But he chose not to tell me, and it was the fact that he couldn’t or wouldn’t share that really bothered me.  I was supposed to be his partner, the person he leans on when he needs help.  But he did what he always does – he retreated inside himself and kept me out of it.”

Ella frowned.  “What exactly was this secret?”

Felicity shook her head.  “I can’t say.  There are people who could be hurt if it ever came out and, anyway, it isn’t mine to tell.  It was kind of…life-altering, but not in a bad way.”

“Did he give you a reason for not telling you?”

“He said the other people involved asked him not to.”

Chloe shrugged.  “In fairness to Oliver, it sort of sounds like he was in a tough place.  He had to choose between betraying them and betraying you.  And you said people could be hurt if it came out…”

Felicity lifted her head to look Chloe in the eye, and for the first time that evening showed a flash of anger.  “If there’s one thing Oliver knows I can do,” she said shortly, “it’s keep secret.  Not once in all the time he’s known me have I _ever_ let anything slip – and I’ve been in on some doozies.”

Still wearing her therapist’s face, Linda asked, “So how did it make you feel this time – when he didn’t tell you?”

Felicity opened her mouth to answer and then dropped her eyes to her wine glass, suddenly unwilling to meet the other woman’s gaze.  “Like he didn’t trust me completely,” she said shakily.  “Like the last four years didn’t mean as much to him as they meant to me.  And it made me wonder if he was really committed to our relationship, or even if this was his way of subconsciously sabotaging it.  I told you before that Oliver avoided commitments when he was younger.  Once, he slept with his girlfriend’s sister when things were starting to get serious.”

Maze gave a low whistle.  “Damn,” she said softly.  “The man really does have issues, doesn’t he?”

Linda shot Maze a baleful look and the demon held up her hands.  “Sorry, Doc.  Still, you have to wonder...”

“This thing with his girlfriend’s sister,” Linda hurriedly spoke over Maze.  “You said it happened when he was younger.  When, exactly, did he do this?”

Felicity paused.  “About ten years ago.”

The table fell silent for a few beats.

“Ten years is a long time,” Linda said at last. “Do you think you’re the same person you were ten years ago?”

Felicity looked into the therapist’s eyes.  “No,” she said softly, “no, I’m not.”

“So do you think it’s possible that Oliver might also have changed over the last ten years?”

Felicity drained the few drops left in her wine glass.  “Yes, I’m sure he’s changed.  But still…”

“And is it also possible that your reaction to his keeping a secret from you might, in part, come from your own insecurities?  Other than Ray, you haven’t talked much about your experiences with men.  Have your relationships generally been successful?”

Felicity frowned.  “There really haven’t been very many of them, but – no – they haven’t been successful.  And my mom’s relationship with my dad was a disaster.”

“So, do you think you might be attributing motives to Oliver that really aren’t there?”

Maze drained what remained in her beer bottle and set it back on the table with a _thunk_.  “Doc,” she said to Linda, “I don’t understand why you’re picking on Felicity and defending this Oliver guy.  He lied to his fiancée about something significant.  Aren’t you therapists supposed to be big on the truth?  Why are you excusing him this time?”

Linda sighed and adjusted her glasses.  “I’m not trying to excuse him.  You’re right – he shouldn’t be keeping big secrets from the woman he says he loves.  Lies are not a long-term recipe for success in a relationship.   But I also think Felicity needs to be honest with _herself_ about her reaction to that lie, because the way she responds will influence the rest of her life.  If she still loves Oliver and is reacting out of hurt and her own history with men, she should share that with him.  She should tell him how the lie made her feel and see if he agrees to work harder at being open with her.  If she doesn’t, she might be missing out on a lot of happiness.  A couple that’s been together for almost five years through some obvious obstacles must have a strong foundation.  It’s clear she’s very much in love.  Before she walks away from that relationship, she might want to give it another try.”

“Is that why you’re down in Silicon Valley interviewing?” Ella asked Felicity.  “Because you’re thinking of leaving Oliver and starting afresh?”

Felicity nodded, although not very enthusiastically.  “Yes.  I don’t want to be one of those women whose life is defined by a man – that’s never been me.  And I now have multiple job offers.  So I was sitting at the bar thinking about the decision I need to make; to return to Star City or to start over somewhere else.”

Chloe glanced at her sympathetically.  “I think Linda has a point,” she said softly.  “What could it hurt to at least talk with Oliver one more time?  Trying to mend a relationship isn’t the same as having a man define your life.  Hell, I wish I’d fought harder for my relationship with my husband.  Now he’s decided he wants a divorce and it’s too late.”  The other women tilted their heads in agreement.

Felicity glanced around the table at the four women from LA, all eager to help to help her.  “I hear you,” she said slowly, “but there’s one more twist to the story that I haven’t told you.”

“And what’s that?” Maze asked.

“Oliver is seeing someone else now.”

The table fell silent.  It was clear no one could think of a positive thing to say.

Linda glanced at Felicity’s empty wine glass.  “You know, ladies,” she said after a moment.  “I think Felicity’s ready for something in the vodka family.”  She raised her hand to call the waiter.  “Could we have a round of Kamikazes?” she asked brightly.

When the shots arrived, Felicity was the first to down hers.

* * *

Lucifer Morningstar wrinkled his nose distastefully as he walked into the bar.  He vastly preferred the dark sensuality of Lux to this palm-fronded, sushi-serving excuse for a club, but he’d been trying to reach both Maze and Chloe for the last couple of hours and neither woman had answered her phone.  The whole Girl’s Night Out thing made him nervous, to say the least.  He was certain that the four ladies used the time together as an opportunity to conspire against him.  Maze certainly no longer jumped at his commands and Chloe had actually begun teasing him.  And that girl, Ella, hugged him as if he were an ordinary human instead of the Prince of Darkness.  He could feel his power slipping.

It didn’t take long to spot them this evening.  They were up on stage in front of the karaoke microphones, belting out _I Will Survive_ in a key that was only slightly off what it was supposed to be.  He was surprised to see them joined by a fifth woman, a petite blonde who looked as if she could be Linda’s younger sister.   The girl caught his interest almost immediately.  On the surface, she looked fresh – almost naïve – but he could sense a soul that had seen great darkness; seen it, and yet somehow emerged intact, with its light undiminished.  She was intriguing, and he guessed that Maze felt the same way, because the demon had one arm draped over the blonde’s shoulders as they sang.

Linda was the first to spot him, just as they reached the final chorus.  She pointed him out to the other women, and they left the stage as a group, coming over to greet him with silly grins on their faces.  There could be no doubt that the drinks had been flowing freely for some time.  Their steps were slightly wobbly and they all smelled faintly of vodka.  Even Chloe had left all traces of tension behind.

“Good evening, ladies,” he said to them in general.  To Maze, he added, “Aren’t you going to introduce me to your friend?”

Maze returned her arm to the blonde’s shoulders, almost protectively.   “This is Felicity,” she said shortly.  “Felicity – this is my former boss, Lucifer.”

Felicity frowned.  “Lucifer?  As in the Devil? Your parents had one hell of a sense of humor.”

Lucifer smiled sardonically.  “Yes, they most certainly did.”  When Maze made no further attempt to explain how the women had come to meet and adopt Felicity as part of their group, he added, “So…what brings you to LA, Felicity?”  He leaned forward and looked deeply into her eyes, practicing his favorite trick.  “Pretty girl like you, what’s your deepest, darkest desire?”  He waited, watching his power take hold of her, curious about her answer.

She stared back in silence for a few seconds.  “What I want,” she said slowly, “is to be able to hit the high note at the end of _I Will Always Love You_.”  Then she grinned.

Damn.  He really hated Girl’s Night Out.


	2. Lucifer's Intervention, Part 1

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You can thank (or blame) BigKahuna and OhhMyyDarla for my continuing this story. BigK mentioned that Lucifer should run into Felicity again and Darla suggested the girls need to visit Felicity in Star City. Put that together with the very excellent Winter Finale of "Lucifer," in which he goes back to Hell to save Chloe and then leaves LA and...here's what you get.
> 
> This is part 1...

“I want you to help me disappear.”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, he felt stupid for saying them.  Not so much for the words themselves, but for who he was saying them to.  The notion that the woman sitting across from him – _girl_ really – was a world-class hacker and could erase all traces of his earthly existence seemed absurd.   She was young and thoughtful, hardly his idea of someone who would traipse freely through other people’s information.  He was astonished that she had even agreed to meet him.

But she had and so here they sat, facing each other in the booth of a burger joint she had recommended in Star City.   Lucifer Morningstar never quite understood the concept of the hamburger.  Beef was one of his Father’s gifts.  If you were going to eat it, you should choose an aged filet mignon, seared on the outside and medium-rare on the inside.  Grinding up beef to form patties and then adulterating it with layers of lettuce, pickles and tomatoes was nothing short of sinful – and he, of all people, knew sinful.

He’d had to pull off a bit of detective work to even find the girl.   He’d met her several months ago at a bar in LA when the women in his life had befriended her during a Girl’s Night Out.   She’d intrigued him, but he’d written it off as a one-time thing, eventually filing her away in the darker recesses of his memory.  It was only when he realized that he needed to get away from his LAPD partner, Detective Chloe Decker, that he remembered what his friend (and demon) Mazikeen had said about the young woman.

“I was surprised by your choice of friends, Maze,” he’d said a couple of days after that particular Girl’s Night Out.  “She hardly seemed your type.”

Maze had shrugged.  “On the contrary.  She’s beautiful, she’s brilliant and she’s got great ear-piercings.   She’s exactly my type.”

“But she seems so irrevocably _good_.”

“Maybe.  Her intentions are certainly good.  But she has a stubborn streak and she believes in herself enough to do what _she_ thinks is right, even when it doesn’t align with the human’s laws.  Do you know she’s hacked into just about every law enforcement database in the country?  I gotta respect that, Lucifer.”

At the time, Lucifer hadn’t been as impressed as Maze with the girl’s Information Technology talents.  However, now that he was trying to extricate himself from Chloe’s life (or her from his, he wasn’t sure which), an acquaintance with hacking skills seemed like a good idea.  He knew that moving out of his LA home wasn’t going to be enough by itself.  As a detective with the LAPD, Chloe had access to phone records, credit card transactions and bank accounts.   No, if he really wanted to disappear, he needed to be reborn digitally; new phone, new email, new social security number…the works.

It had taken him a full day to locate the young woman and get in touch with her. He'd started with his therapist, Dr. Linda Martin, one of the participants at Girl's Night Out. He'd hoped Linda would give him the girl's contact information but she hadn't been as cooperative as he would have liked. She’d let slip a name – Felicity Smoak – but then had refused to give Lucifer a phone number or address.

“I need Felicity’s permission to give out her number,” Linda had said, “and since you and I both know you’re the Devil, I’m not inclined to even ask her for it.  Felicity’s got enough challenges in her life right now.  She doesn’t need you and your personal issues added to them.”

His next stop had been Ella, a forensic scientist with the LAPD.  She was another Girl’s Night Out attendee and Lucifer felt certain that she, too, had kept in touch with Felicity.  However, Ella had been fully entrenched in a grisly murder investigation and Lucifer couldn’t risk going anywhere near the police station to talk to her.

Chloe, obviously, had been out of the question.

Which left Maze.  He’d thought about asking her as he’d done with Linda, but in the end had opted for something more expedient; he’d looked at her phone.  Actually, he’d invited her out for a drink in one of LA’s seedier joints, started a brawl  -- something Maze could never resist – and _then_ looked at her phone when she’d left it on her seat to join the fray and throw a few punches.  And there it had been – Felicity Smoak’s phone number in Maze’s Contacts.

He’d called Felicity and told her he needed help with some of his electronic records.  She’d remembered him and with a slight hesitation had suggested they meet in a place inauspiciously called Big Belly Burger in Star City.   Lucifer had jumped on the offer.  Chloe was recovering from injuries sustained during their latest case and would be coming home from the hospital any day.  He had to get out of LA quickly, and Star City seemed as good a place as any to start.  And so here they sat.

“I want you to help me disappear.”

She frowned at him.  “Why?  What have you done?”

She looked different than he remembered her from LA.  Back then, her blonde hair had tumbled loosely over her shoulders and she’d had a few drinks.  The alcohol had made her bold and blatantly sexy.  Today, her hair was pulled back in a ponytail and she looked young and much more innocent, cautious about meeting a strange man she’d encountered in a bar.  He was encouraged by her apparent naïveté.  Getting her help, he figured, would only require a small dose of his hypnotic charm.

But as she continued to look him in the eye, he started to rethink that assumption.  She might be innocent, but he was also picking up a distinct aura of intelligence and integrity – qualities he typically disliked in a female but which seemed to be growing on him ever since he’d met Chloe Decker and Linda Martin.   This little blonde, he decided, wasn’t going to be a pushover.  He made a last minute change in tactics, opting to ditch the charm and lead with honesty.  He thought it more likely to appeal to her.

“I haven’t done anything illegal, Felicity, if that’s what you’re worried about,” he replied.   “There’s someone in my life I need to get away from and there’s a good chance she’ll try to follow me.   Maze tells me you’re the master of all things online.  I was hoping you could help me disappear and start over -- give me a new name, new credit cards, and transfer funds to start a new business outside of LA.”

Felicity’s gaze didn’t waver. “That’s a lot to ask,” she said cautiously. “Why do you want to get away from her?”

Oh yeah – definitely not a pushover.   She was going to require an explanation.  The question was, Lucifer thought, how much of an explanation could she handle?  He didn’t want to tell her that he’d learned Chloe Decker was a trap set by his parents to awaken his heart – a trap he’d fallen for hook, line and sinker.   Chances were, Felicity wouldn’t believe him if he told her who his parents were.  And, at any rate, he hated sounding like a lovesick puppy in front of a woman he barely knew.  So he opted for an abbreviated version of the truth.   “I’m not good for her,” he said simply.  “In the long run, she’ll be happier without me and the only way I can get her to see that is by leaving.”

He stated it earnestly, without any of his usual sarcasm, but he could see that she wasn’t convinced.  She pursed her lips – lovely, full lips, he noticed – and replied, “I have experience with people running away from those who love them. It usually doesn’t help and often makes things worse.  The person left behind wonders for years what they did to drive their loved one away.  I doubt your leaving is going to truly make Chloe happier.”

“Who said anything about Chloe?”

She raised one eyebrow.  “ Seriously, Lucifer?  I saw the way the two of you looked at each other in that bar.  I wasn’t born yesterday.”

He wanted to tell her that in his world, after so many millennia, she’d been born a minute ago.  However, that wasn’t going to help.  So he said instead, “What if I told you that I am not a good person… _convinced_ you that I am not a good person?  That even though Chloe may not be happy when I’m gone, she _will_ be better off?”

She studied him thoughtfully.  “If you can convince me, then I might be persuaded to help.”

He nodded, pleased that he’d found a path.  Now the question was how far he should go in demonstrating his true nature.  He’d shown Linda Martin his real self and she’d been catatonic for a couple of days.  Then she’d recovered and had coped amazingly well with having the Devil as her patient.    He didn’t think Felicity Smoak was as seasoned as Linda Martin, and anyway, he didn’t have a couple of days.   So he decided to give her a glimpse of his darkness but not the full show.   Just enough to let her know that he was not a nice guy.

He leaned forward across the table.  “Felicity,” he said softly, “look at me.”

She frowned.  “I _am_ looking at you.”

He shook his head.  “No, I mean _really_ look at me.  Look into my eyes.”

She put her forearms on the table, inclined toward him and then laughed.  Not the reaction he was going for.  “Aren’t you being a little melodramatic, Lucifer?”

He sighed.  Why were all the women he met these days so stubborn?  He said more sharply, “Oh, for Father’s sake, Felicity, would you just humor me and look into my eyes?”

“Fine.”

She looked.

He showed her.

Not everything, not the full-on face of the Lord of Hell, but enough to prove that he was not of this earth – not originally.  Enough to show her that Heaven was forever out of his reach.  Then he sat back.

She stared at him.  He could see that she was shocked, but he could also see her agile brain already trying to rationalize what she had seen.   He was impressed in spite of himself.  This girl really didn’t rattle easily.  She’d evidently seen darkness before and dealt with it.  In any other circumstances, he wouldn’t mind getting to know her better.

But there wasn’t time, and the last thing he needed in his life was another intelligent, capable woman.  Things had been easier when he’d stuck to bimbos.  “So,” he said, preempting her barrage of questions, “now that you’ve had a glimpse of the real me, can you agree that Chloe will be better off if I’m gone?  Will you help me disappear?”

She nodded slowly. “I’m not sure what I just saw, but I believe helping you disappear _might_ be in Chloe’s best interests.   I still think there could be other options, though.”

“I was hoping for a little more commitment, Felicity.   You should be protecting Chloe.  I just showed you my darkness.”

She nodded again.  “Yeah, I guess that’s what you showed me.   And I _will_ help.”  She sighed.  “I’m just a little tired of men who are obsessed with their _darkness_.   You all need to learn to focus on the positive.”  She sat back and he could tell that her mind had briefly gone elsewhere.  She shook her head, bringing herself back to the moment.  “Okay, Lucifer, I’ll create a set of records for you.   To do this right, though, it will take me a couple of days.  Let’s talk the day after tomorrow.”

“Don’t you need information from me to get started?  My social security number or something?”

She blinked and recited from memory.  “Lucifer Morningstar, owner of the club Lux in Los Angeles, accounts with both Citigroup and Bank of America, plus a large, offshore account in the Caymans.  Two Visas with obscenely high credit limits and no life insurance – which I found a little odd, by the way.”

He laughed.   She’d done her homework.  “Right.  I guess you can find anything you need on your own.  I’ll call you in a couple of days.  And, Felicity?”

“Yes?”

“Can we meet someplace else next time?  I’m not crazy about hamburgers.”

* * *

 Linda Martin saw the name pop up on her cell phone and wasn’t completely surprised.

Felicity Smoak.

Lucifer Morningstar had wanted to talk to the young blonde from Star City, and when Linda hadn’t given him her number he’d evidently gone elsewhere to find it.  It occurred to Linda that she’d never asked Lucifer why he wanted to talk to Felicity in the first place.  It must be something he considered very urgent.  She guessed she was about to find out.

She answered her phone.  “Hello, Felicity.”

“Hi, Linda.  I hope I’m not catching you in the middle of a session?”

“No, I can talk.”

“Good.” Felicity hesitated and then said, “Lucifer Morningstar came to see me.  He wanted a favor.”

Linda frowned.  It was certainly like Lucifer to ask for a favor.  However, she couldn’t imagine the favor he would need from a woman he barely knew.  She’d been surprised the man had even remembered Felicity.  Lately, their therapy sessions had been full of nothing but Chloe.  “What did he want?” she asked curiously.

“To help him disappear by creating a new set of electronic records.  You know – phone, bank accounts, that kind of thing.”

Lucifer wanted to leave LA?  Linda was flabbergasted.  She’d always thought that he loved the city and loved running his club, Lux.  To Felicity, she asked, “And you can do this?”

Felicity laughed.  “Sure.  It’s simple.  It would take me an hour or two.”

“But you didn’t do it.”  Linda made it a statement.

“No, not yet.  I wanted to talk to you first, so I told him I’d need a couple of days.  He says he has to get away from Chloe; he wants to leave her for her own good.  I’m guessing there’s more to the story.”

Linda frowned thoughtfully.  Things were starting to make sense.  Chloe had nearly died recently when she and Lucifer were working a case.  Lucifer had been forced to go back to Hell to find a way to save her.  The whole thing had been extremely traumatic – for Lucifer more than anyone.  He’d nearly gotten stuck in the Underworld and Linda had had the unpleasant task of bringing his all-too-human body back to life.  She wasn’t surprised that he was having a strong reaction now.   She had wanted to talk about it with him at their next session, but they hadn’t _had_ a next session yet.

As a therapist, she knew the logical thing to do.

“Felicity,” Linda said crisply, “I’m glad you called.  I think we may need to stage an intervention for Lucifer.”

“An intervention?”

“We need to get Lucifer together with the people who care about him and make him realize that leaving isn’t the right thing to do.”

“Oh -- okay,” Felicity’s voice was relieved.  “I’m in.  What do you need from me?”

“Just stick to your plan to meet Lucifer in a couple of days.  I’ll talk to the girls and take care of the rest.”

“Right.”  There was a long pause, and then Felicity said tentatively, “Linda?”

“Yes?”

“Who exactly is Lucifer?  When we met, he showed me something that made me think he’s not your average human.”

Linda pursed her lips.  “What did he show you?”

“I don’t know really.  He made me look into his eyes…it was almost as if I was seeing into a big, dark void.  It sounds silly, but my first impression was that he’s not from earth.”

Linda sighed.   This was the last discussion she wanted to have at the moment.   She’d known Lucifer’s true identity for months and she was still coming to grips with it. “Lucifer is…complicated,” she replied carefully.  “We can talk more about it later.  For right now, suffice it to say that he’s as human as any other man when it comes to matters of the heart.   And he’s fallen for Chloe – big time.”

“Okay.”  Felicity seemed willing to take Linda at her word.  “I’ll talk to you later, then.”

“You bet.  Goodbye, Felicity.”

“Bye.”

Linda stared at her cell phone for a few seconds.  Two days really wasn’t very much time.  She needed to get moving.  She tapped into her Contacts list.

“Hey, Doc.”  Maze answered on the first ring.  “What’s shaking?”

Despite the moment, Linda felt the urge to grin.  For a demon, Maze was picking up some interesting human phrases.  “We’ve got a problem with Lucifer.”

“You mean the fact that he’s disappeared?"

Linda nearly dropped the phone.  “You _knew_?”

“Chloe came back to the house earlier today all freaked out about it.  She went to his place to see him and said it looks like he’s moved out.”

“ _You_ don’t seem too upset about it, Maze.”

“I’m not.  Lucifer won’t admit it, but he needs me.  Sooner or later he’ll call.”

Linda suspected Maze was right.  Still….

“I don’t think we should wait that long, Maze.  I was thinking we should stage an intervention for Lucifer now.”

There were a few second of silence on the other end of the phone.  Then Maze said, “I don’t know what that is exactly, but if it gets him back here and gets Chloe to stop crying -- I’m all for it.”  Then she added, “So, what exactly _is_ an intervention, Doc?”

“We get together with Lucifer and knock some sense into his head.”

Another pause.  Then Maze said enthusiastically, “Well if it involves knocking Lucifer around in any way, then hell _yeah_ , I’m in.  But how do we stage an intervention when we don’t know where he is?”

“Felicity called.  Lucifer went to see her in Star City.”

“Star City?”

“Yeah.  He wants her help erasing all his old electronic records and creating new ones.”

“Makes sense if he's trying to disappear.  So what’s the plan?”

“The plan is we take Girl’s Night Out on the road.”


	3. Lucifer's (?) Intervention, Part 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not too much to say, other than this one got away from me. It's supposed to be Lucifer's intervention, but somehow Oliver Queen inserted himself into the story. I guess that's because it involves Felicity.
> 
> Folks who watch "Lucifer" know that Maze hides her true face. She revealed it once -- to Trixie -- on Halloween.

Felicity Smoak studied herself in the mirror and sighed.  Was this the right look for an intervention, she wondered?  Or had she gone too casual?  She was wearing snug black jeans and a sleeveless blue top that flowed softly to her hips, covered by a black leather jacket.   She’d left her hair loose over her shoulders and had elected to stay with glasses.  It was a good Friday night happy hour look and would certainly work for Girl’s Night Out, but this was not supposed to be an ordinary GNO.  This was supposed to be Lucifer Morningstar’s intervention.

Linda Martin had briefly summarized for Felicity the protocol for an intervention.  According to the LA therapist, an intervention involved people who cared about an individual coming together to convince him to alter an unhealthy behavior.  Given Linda’s definition, Felicity figured she and John Diggle had performed multiple interventions with Oliver Queen over the years – generally with limited success.  If they managed to get Oliver to listen -- and that was a big _if_ – he typically believed and did what he wanted anyway.   She wondered if Lucifer was equally as stubborn.  Even if he wasn’t, she doubted she was the best person to persuade him to remain in LA and deal with his feelings for Chloe.  She barely knew the man.

But then, Linda had also assured Felicity that she really didn’t have to do the persuading.   Her primary responsibility was to get Lucifer to a place where the girls could talk to him.  Once she got him there, Linda would take over.   This was encouraging.  It left Felicity with just one, theoretically easy duty in the intervention; finding the location.  

Except it wasn’t _entirely_ easy.  Felicity very quickly decided she didn’t want to host the intervention in her home.   Despite Linda’s assertion that Lucifer was merely a man confused by love, Felicity felt uncomfortable about asking him to come to the loft.   She wasn’t sure what he’d shown her when she’d looked into his eyes a couple of days ago, but her instinct was telling her that he was not your ordinary human.  There’d been a mystical kind of power there, and he’d seemed old…almost timeless.   Felicity vaguely remembered that vampires couldn’t come into your home unless they’d been invited (at least according to _Buffy_ and _True Blood_ ).  On the off-chance that the same principle extended to other supernatural beings, she didn’t want to open the loft door to Lucifer – figuratively or literally.

She also worried about explanations for Team Arrow should she run into any one of them while spending time with her LA girlfriends.  She’d never told the Team that she’d briefly considered a job in California and she didn’t have a ready story for how she’d met Ella, Linda, Chloe or – good heavens – Maze.  That left her usual list of hangouts off the list as well.   The risk of encountering someone she knew was just too high.

She finally settled on a new bar called Beer Belly that had recently opened downtown.   A quick reconnaissance mission showed that the place was large and airy, filled with light oak furniture and frequented mainly by young professionals.  Along with the requisite wooden bar and stools near the entry, there were a handful of pool tables and dart boards in the back of the expansive room as well as plenty of tables to cluster around.  A gentle hum of voices filled the establishment; not so loud that you’d feel a need to shout over them, but enough to make the place seem occupied and busy.  The bar felt bright, safe and not at all mysterious – just the right location to counterbalance a dark and other-worldly man.

She and Linda had agreed that the girls would gather an hour before Felicity had planned to meet Lucifer.  That would give them time to settle at a table in the back, not immediately visible to the man as he walked in.   After that…well it was up to Linda.

Felicity took one last look in the mirror and decided her outfit would have to do.  She fluffed her hair with her fingers, grabbed her keys, and left the loft.

* * *

Oliver Queen was surprised to see John Constantine’s name pop up on his cell phone.  It had been more than six months since he’d talked to Constantine and over a year since he’d last seen his friend in person.  He immediately worried about the nature of the call.  Was Constantine in trouble?  Or did he bring a warning of some magical threat headed toward Star City?  Oliver hoped it was neither.  He had enough on his plate balancing Arrow duties with being the mayor of Star City.  He didn’t need another problem.

On the other hand, at this very moment he was sitting in his City Hall office staring at a long, dull list of proposed budget cuts.  The intent of the cuts was noble –to get his city out of its fiscal deficit – but he found none of the ideas appealing and he was sure each was going to piss off at least one special interest group.   It was a lose-lose situation. If he rejected the cuts, the city remained in the red.  If he approved them, there’d be angry tweets from constituents complaining about discontinued programs and lack of support from the Mayor.  A supernatural threat that could be neutralized with a well-placed arrow didn’t seem so bad – as long as it could be dealt with quickly and easily.

He tapped the phone to answer.  “Hello?”

“Oliver, mate!” Constantine’s voice greeted him cheerfully.  “Or should I say Mayor Queen?  How’s it going?”

“O…kay,” Oliver replied slowly.  Constantine certainly didn’t _sound_ like a man in trouble…but then most people required a few sentences to work up to the unpleasant part of a conversation.  “How are you?” he asked cautiously.

“I’m good, mate.  I’m actually in Star City right now – just passing through on my way up to Canada.  Was wondering if you’d have time for a pint?”

“A pint?” Oliver repeated, trying to remember if they’d ever used “pint” as code for something more sinister.   He certainly couldn’t recall meeting Constantine in a purely social capacity.  On Lian Yu they had both been fighting for their lives, and their interactions since the island had centered on mystical tasks like restoring Sara Lance’s soul to her resurrected body.   Going out for a drink seemed much too normal -- there had to be more to Constantine’s request.  “A pint?” he asked again.

“Yeah, you know,” Constantine said impatiently, “a pint of _beer_.  It’s this old custom where two friends who haven’t seen each other for a while have a drink and talk about what’s happening in their lives.” He chuckled.  ‘”Hell, Oliver, things must be pretty bad if you’ve forgotten how to go out and catch up with a mate.  Has becoming mayor taken away what little sense of fun you had?  What’s going on?”

Oliver let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding.  This really was just a social call. He laughed – both in relief, and at himself for being so suspicious.  “I’m sorry, John.  You’re right -- things here _have_ been crazy and my first assumption was that you had more bad news.  I’m glad to hear that’s not the case.”  He shook his head ruefully and thought _why not_?  It was close to 7 pm on a Friday evening and he’d put in a long, frustrating day.  “A drink sounds great and I’m ready to leave work now.  Where do you want to meet?”

“You tell me, mate.  It’s your city.”

Oliver frowned.  His knowledge of the pub scene was limited to the seedier places that criminals frequented and the locations of his recent dates with the reporter, Susan Williams.  He preferred to avoid the risk of running into Susan and having to explain the piece of his past that involved Constantine; he sure as _hell_ didn’t want to have to deal with the city’s low-lives.   That meant finding someplace new.  He leaned forward and typed a quick _Yelp_ search into his computer.

“There’s a place called Beer Belly near the corner of Newbury and Dartmouth.  It’s getting raves for its micro-brew selection.”

Constantine snorted, “I think an Englishman should be the judge of the beer.  You Yanks’ll drink anything.    I’ll see you there in a half hour.”

“Right.  Looking forward to it.”  Oliver ended the call with a smile, and then texted Felicity and Diggle to tell them he was working late and wouldn’t be coming to the lair for Arrow duty.   The working part was a minor fib, but he didn’t want to admit to the Team that he was taking the night off for a beer.  He suspected it would lead to considerable teasing the next day.

He received brief acknowledgements from both in return, then shut down his computer and left the office.

* * *

Felicity congratulated herself on selecting an acceptable place for the intervention.   The girls had been able to find Beer Belly easily and Linda seemed happy enough with it.  As they’d done in LA, they were seated around a table talking and drinking.  Unlike LA, however, Felicity was taking care to pace herself with the adult beverages.  She’d skipped both wine _and_ Kamikazes and was sticking to beer, nursing her first glass slowly.  She didn’t want to find herself up on stage again singing karaoke – not that they _had_ karaoke at this bar.  Pool tables and darts seemed more their thing.

As luck would have it, she hadn’t even had to invent an excuse to give Team Arrow for not going to the lair this evening.  Oliver had texted her unexpectedly saying he was working late at City Hall.  He’d suggested she take the night off and she had happily texted back her agreement.   It felt good not to have to lie to him, and equally good to know that her obligation in the intervention would be fulfilled shortly when Lucifer arrived and she brought him back to the table.  She allowed herself to relax just a little, surrounded by the conversation of her friends and the background _clack_ of pool balls as they caromed around tables and fell into pockets.   The pool sounds made her think of her childhood in Las Vegas, when she was nine years old and used to play at Bobby Oleskowicz’s house after school.   Bobby had never been interested in computers, but he had certainly liked pool.

True to her word, Linda arrived in Star City with a game plan and had immediately taken charge.  She’d led the women to a table in the back, not easily visible from the door, and filled them in on the rules for the intervention.

“This isn’t about making Lucifer feel guilty,” she told them. “It’s about helping him make the healthy choice, figuring out what’s best for him.”  She paused.  “At the same time, he _does_ need to understand that his actions impact other people, so it’s also okay to be honest about _your_ feelings.”

Chloe Decker stared at Linda anxiously, her blue eyes large in her thin face.  “I keep thinking that I’m responsible for him leaving,” she said.  “We were starting to get closer and the last thing I said was that I wanted to pursue a relationship with him…see where it might lead.  That’s when he disappeared.”

Linda shook her head.  “Chloe – no one is responsible for Lucifer’s actions except Lucifer.   If his instinct is to run away from someone when they express feelings for him, then he needs to understand why and find a more positive way to handle it.”

“Speaking of men running away from their feelings,” Maze interrupted, turning to Felicity, “what’s the status with your asshole boyfriend?  Is he still seeing what’s-her-name?”

Felicity frowned.  “He’s _not_ my boyfriend, Maze, and as far as I know, the status with his new girlfriend is _quo_.   I don’t ask him about it.” She hoped Maze would drop the subject.  She didn’t feel like talking about Oliver and she _really_ didn’t feel like talking about Oliver _and_ Susan.  Besides, this evening was supposed to be all about Lucifer.

Maze, however, was not ready to give up.  “If things haven’t gotten better, then why are you nursing that beer like it’s the last one in the refrigerator?”  She pointed to Felicity’s glass, still half full.  “Drink up!  You’re with your tribe, girl. We’ll take care of you.  Let your hair down a little.”

Felicity rolled her eyes.  “The last time I ‘let my hair down’ with you I ended up with a killer hangover after singing bad karaoke in LA.  Not to mention that I met Lucifer Morningstar and he now thinks I’m his personal IT support team.”

Maze grinned.  “Well, if the Doc is successful tonight,” she nodded toward Linda, “then Lucifer will be headed back to Los Angeles and out of your life.  In fact, we’ll _all_ be headed back to LA and may not get the chance to see each other for a while.  So while we’re here together, finish your beer and I’ll refill your glass.  Then we can loosen up and bitch about your boyfriend until Lucifer arrives.  It’ll make Chloe feel better to hear that someone else’s love life is as screwed up as hers.”

Felicity doubted that beer or bitching was going to do anything to solve her issues with Oliver.  And as much as she’d like to help Chloe, she also didn’t think that “loosening up” in Star City was a good idea for her.  She wasn’t as recognizable as Oliver, but there were always a few people who remembered her as the former CEO of Palmer Technologies.   If Maze’s definition of “loosen up” was anything like Felicity thought it was, she didn’t want to risk being captured on someone’s cell phone video doing something stupid.  And she sure as hell didn’t want to explain it to Oliver or John Diggle if word somehow got back to them.

She shook her head and left her beer glass half full on the table, staring resolutely into Maze’s dark eyes.  Maze stared back with equal intensity.   Felicity hoped that Linda might chime in with something about alcohol never being a solution, but the therapist was silent.  Of course, the therapist was also on her second martini.

To Felicity’s surprise, Maze blinked first.  “Fine,” she said.  “I can see you’re not easily influenced.”  Her gaze wandered over to the pool tables and then returned to Felicity.  She smiled.  “Do you play?” she asked casually, gesturing toward the tables.

Felicity shrugged.  “A little, when I was kid.  It’s been a long time.”

Maze nodded.  “They don’t have pool where I come from, but I’ve been learning the game since I moved to LA and I really love it.” Her smile turned crafty.  “There’s a table free.  Why don’t you and I play?  Eight-ball.  I win -- you finish that beer and drink another one.   You win…I’ll stop bothering you about it.”

Felicity felt her face flush.  “I don’t think this is the right night for a drinking game,” she began.  “It’s supposed to Lucifer’s intervention and--”

“Lucifer isn’t due for another 30 minutes, and given that he’s always late, it’ll be closer to an hour.  We have plenty of time.  C’mon, Smoak – put your big girl pants on.”

Felicity stared once more at Maze and then around the table, looking for support from the other women.  She didn’t get any.   Ella seemed to think the whole thing was funny and Chloe was talking quietly to Linda, evidently still stressing over Lucifer.   Felicity shrugged again in resignation.  “Fine,” she said shortly to Maze.  “Let’s play.  But if I win, you’ve got to get off my back about Oliver.”

“Deal.”

They stepped up to a table and Maze racked the balls.  She broke with a crisp, hard stroke from her cue stick and the four-ball trickled into a corner pocket.  “Looks like I’m Solids,” she said to Felicity.  “That makes you Stripes.”

Felicity nodded.

Maze studied the table, but as was often the case after a break, she didn’t have a lot of good options.  There too many striped balls blocking her shots.  “Six in the side pocket,” she said at last.

Her shot was close, but she didn’t quite have the angle and the ball bounced back.   “Your turn,” she said to Felicity with a grin.

Felicity picked up a cue stick, twisting it gently in her hand.  She almost smiled as the gesture brought back memories of afternoons at Bobby Oleskowicz’s house.  Bobby’s and Felicity’s moms had worked the noon to 9:00 pm cocktail shift at Caesar’s Palace in Las Vegas, leaving both children in need of supervision after school.  With Felicity’s father already gone, Bobby’s dad had reluctantly agreed to assume babysitting duty for the two nine-year-olds.   Felicity had been frightened of him at first.  He was _so_ different from her dad.  Her dad had been bookish and quiet -- all about math and circuit diagrams and technology.  Bobby’s dad was big and boisterous -- all about sports and physicality.  Felicity’s dad had earned his living working on computers.

Bobby’s dad had earned _his_ hustling pool.

Lacking any other skill for amusing two children, he’d introduced Felicity and Bobby to the pool table.  He taught them all about spin, speed and angles, as well as the rules of eight-ball, nine-ball, straight pool and one-pocket.  Felicity had loved it.  She’d never been great at sports – her attempts at soccer, softball and gymnastics had been half-hearted and mediocre at best.  But something about the mathematical precision of pool had appealed to her. They’d played nearly every afternoon, often for as much as two hours.  Bobby had been even more enthusiastic and had stuck with pool long after they’d outgrown babysitters and even their friendship.   He’d eventually dropped out of high school to follow the professional circuit.  Felicity, of course, had graduated with honors and won a scholarship to MIT.   She’d played occasionally in college, but it had been years since she’d touched a stick.

Still… as they often like to say, it was just like riding a bike.   The cue stick felt comfortable and natural in her hand, and the chalk dust smelled like a sunlit afternoon in Bobby’s Las Vegas house.  She allowed herself a full smile as she assessed the layout of the balls on the table.

“Eleven in the corner pocket.”

She tapped the cue ball gently and watched as the chain of collisions led to the eleven-ball disappearing neatly into the corner.   She turned her attention to the fourteen-ball.

“Fourteen in the side.”

One by one, she cleared her balls off the table without losing her turn, finally dropping the eight-ball with a decisive smack.  Maze watched it all, a frown growing on her face.  By the end, she looked downright annoyed.

“You hustled me,” she said sharply, after Felicity put the eight-ball away.

Felicity nodded apologetically.  “Maybe just a little.  It’s been years since I’ve played.  I wasn’t sure if it would come back.  It did, though.”

Maze said nothing and continued to stare at her with a dark expression.  Felicity felt vaguely uneasy.  She recalled the joke at the last Girl’s Night Out about Maze being a demon and wondered whether she’d just made a huge mistake.  The woman certainly looked fierce now, dressed in black leather and holding her cue stick as if it were a weapon.

But then – suddenly -- Maze grinned.  “Cool,” she said cheerfully.   “You hustled _me_.   Good for you, Smoak.   I never would have guessed you had it in you.”  Felicity could swear she heard a touch of admiration in the woman’s tone.

She smiled, relieved.  “Thanks.” 

“And I won’t bug you anymore about your asshole boyfriend – at least not tonight.”

Felicity nodded.  “Good.”

They turned to go back and join the other women, but found the path blocked by two men.   Felicity stiffened reflexively before noting that the men were smiling and seemed friendly enough.  She guessed they were in their early thirties.  One was tall and dark; the second was shorter and sandy-haired.   They had evidently come straight from work.  Their shirt collars were unbuttoned and their ties were loosened around their necks.   On Oliver, she found that look infinitely sexy, especially when he added rolled-up sleeves to the ensemble.  On these two, it was just average.  Felicity was accustomed to men in fighting shape.  Compared to Team Arrow, these guys seemed soft.

The taller man grinned at Felicity. “Pretty nice shooting, Cutie.  Twenty bucks says you can’t do it again.”  

She frowned up at him, caught off balance.  “Excuse me?”  She’d never liked being called _Cutie_.  She found it disrespectful and condescending, a world away from being called _Beautiful_.  She downgraded the men further on the Oliver-scale; from _average_ to _below-average_.

“Twenty dollars says you can’t clear the table again in a single turn,” the man repeated, his brown eyes twinkling as he boldly looked her up and down.  To clarify his point, he pointed toward the pool table Felicity and Maze had just left.

 _Whatever happened to_ “ _can I buy you a drink,”_ Felicity wondered?  To be fair, she hadn’t been hit on in a while and wasn’t entirely sure that she was being hit on now. Maybe these guys really did just want to bet on pool. She turned to Maze, puzzled. “I can’t tell if that’s a pickup line or actually a bet,” she said, not caring that the men could hear.   She pursed her lips, vaguely annoyed. “Either way, it’s not working for me.  Does it work for you, Maze?”

Maze turned and assessed the two men as boldly as the tall one had just assessed Felicity.  “Not really,” she said after a minute.  “If it’s a bet, twenty bucks is lame.  It lacks confidence and it’s cheap.  And if it’s a pickup line, it’s juvenile.”  She shook her head.  “No…definitely not working for me, either.  Let’s go.”  She looped her arm through Felicity’s and gave it a tug, leading her back toward their table.

But the men weren’t ready to give up.  They stepped once more into the girls’ path and the shorter one decided to assume the lead.  “Hey, c’mon girls,” he said lightly.  “How else are a couple of guys supposed to break the ice with two gorgeous women?  I can assure you we’re not cheap.  We both happen to be lawyers – on track to be partners at our firm, actually.   If you give us a chance, we can show you both a _very_ good time.”

Maze paused and then let go of Felicity’s arm. A gleam entered her eyes.  She glanced at Felicity and smiled.  “Well, if that’s the case, then why don’t you make the bet more _interesting_?” she asked the shorter man.  “That would show _me_ a good time.”

“Maze…” Felicity began.

The shorter man grinned at Maze, ignoring Felicity.  “What are you thinking?” he asked.

Maze glanced at the pool table for a few seconds.  “I’m thinking a hundred bucks,” she replied slowly.  “That would convince me you’re not cheap, anyway.”

“Maze…” Felicity said again, putting more edge into her voice.  Lucifer was on his way.  They didn’t have time for this.

“Fine,” the shorter man agreed, nodding.  “A hundred it is.”

“Apiece,” Maze said.

The shorter man paused and then looked at his friend.   They both seemed less certain.

“Hey,” Maze encouraged.  “What’s a hundred dollars apiece to a couple of nearly-partners in a law firm?  And you’re probably right.  My friend here most likely did just get lucky.  I doubt she can do it again. ”

The men turned their gazes from each other to the dark-haired woman, and then to Felicity.  Felicity could almost read their thoughts.  _How good can the little blonde be?_ She hoped she was good enough, because Maze was making it pretty difficult for her to back out.

The taller man finally nodded. “Okay,” he said, “A hundred apiece.  And to show you what good guys we are, we won’t collect the money if you lose.  Instead, you’ll agree to spend the rest of the night with us.”

Felicity felt her face blanch and she clutched Maze’s arm.  “I assume that means we spend rest of the night with you _here_ ,” she said to the taller man.  “Not that we’d have to go _home_ with you and spend the rest of the night.”

The taller man grinned, his confidence returning.  “Correct.  However, I guarantee that once you spend a little time with us here you’ll _want_ to go home with us at the end of the evening.  The four of us could have an amazing time.”  He raised his eyebrows cockily. “My buddy and I will ruin you both for other men.”

His friend laughed and Felicity immediately felt her annoyance return.  She downgraded the men another notch; from _below-average_ to _jerk_.  She was so eager to wipe the smirks off their faces that she forgot about Lucifer and his impending intervention.

“Fine,” she said shortly.  “It’s a bet.”  She shrugged out of her jacket and handed it to Maze, baring her arms for more freedom of movement.  Then she picked up the cue stick.  “Let’s get this show on the road.”

Fifteen minutes and two hundred dollars later, she and Maze were fist-bumping in victory.

Felicity glanced at the small crowd that had gathered around the pool table.  “How much time do we have before Lucifer gets here?” she asked the dark-haired woman.  “Another hundred bucks and I can afford a new pair of boots.”

* * *

Oliver took a deep swallow of his IPA, enjoying the sensation as the cold beer slid down his throat.   As planned, he and Constantine had connected at Beer Belly, and both men were now leaning on the bar near the entrance as they talked and drank.   He noted a few people doing double-takes as they walked in; probably wondering whether that was really Mayor Queen having a beer like an ordinary guy on a Friday night.  He ignored their stares and focused on his friend.

Constantine was exactly as Oliver had remembered him – brash, cynical and easily able to drink him under the table.  The Brit finished his second pint and ordered a third as Oliver was still working on his first.  Oliver wondered how the man could do it.  John was as tall as Oliver but slighter in build, with a thick shock of blonde hair that was always in need of a trim.  His energy seemed boundless.  Even now, with a couple of beers under his belt, his left leg was jiggling and his fingers were tapping on the bar or his beer glass.  Oliver figured that was partly the consequence of dealing with mystical forces, but mostly because Constantine was a chain smoker drinking in a place that didn’t allow smoking.

“Why are you headed to Canada?” Oliver inquired, happy to forget about Star City for a little while and focus on someone else’s life and problems.

Constantine turned and leaned his back against the bar, gazing absently at the people in Beer Belly as they reveled in the freedom of a Friday evening.  “Got a call from a priest,” he said briefly.  “He’s looking for some help with an exorcism.”

“Oh.”  Oliver nodded, not sure what to say next.  Evil spirits and possession were Constantine’s specialty, not his.   “Anything unusual?” he asked lamely, as if an exorcism wasn’t unusual enough.

Constantine shook his head.   “Won’t know til I get there.  It sounds pretty typic--,” he stopped in mid-sentence and straightened up from the bar, staring curiously toward the far corner of Beer Belly.  After a few seconds, he turned to Oliver.  “Are you still working with the same team?” he asked abruptly.

“Mostly,” Oliver replied, confused by the change in topic.

“Including the blonde?”

“Sara?” Oliver asked, assuming Constantine recalled her from the spell he’d performed to restore her soul.

“No, the blonde with the glasses.  You hung onto her for dear life after we performed Sara’s restoration.  Pretty girl…smart, too.”

“Felicity,” Oliver stated flatly, wondering what had made Constantine suddenly think of her.  Felicity had gathered a few supplies for Constantine when he’d come to Star City, but they really hadn’t interacted much.  “Yes, she’s still part of the team.  Why?”  He hoped he wasn’t going to have to explain his relationship with Felicity and the whole engagement-lie-breakup thing.  It wasn’t his proudest moment.

Constantine peered once again toward the back of the large room.  “Does she by any chance moonlight as a professional snooker player?”

“ _What_?” Oliver felt his brow furrow at what was clearly a nonsensical question.  Constantine may as well have asked if Felicity was starting at quarterback for the Pittsburgh Steelers.

“There’s a blonde back there with a bit of a crowd around her,” Constantine explained.  “She’s shooting pool and I swear she looks just like your girl.”

Oliver shook his head.  “Can’t be.”  

Constantine shrugged.  “Take a look.  The resemblance is amazing.  Maybe she has a long lost twin.”

Oliver smiled.  He was pretty sure there was only one Felicity in the world.  He drained his glass and turned from the bar to follow Constantine’s gaze. 

And then he choked on his beer.

Because it _was_ Felicity.  Felicity with a cue stick in her hand, confidently knocking the balls in as if she were starring in a female version of _The Hustler_.   She kept glancing at a dark-haired woman and grinning -- and the woman kept grinning back.  Oliver could not ever recall seeing her among Felicity’s acquaintances.    He was certain he would remember if he had.  She was head-to-toe in black leather and looked beautiful, but very tough.  Definitely not part of the hacker crowd and not someone he would peg as a friend to Felicity.  

Felicity knocked the eight-ball off the table, her bare arms looking smooth and capable.  Oliver saw a couple of men reluctantly hand some bills to the leather-clad beauty, and then the two women fist-bumped.

“It’s her,” he said weakly to Constantine.  “It’s Felicity.”  He frowned. “I don’t ever remember her mentioning that she played pool.”

Constantine nodded.  “I thought it looked like her.  Do you know her friend?”

Oliver shook his head, studying the dark-haired woman.  “Never met her.”

Constantine narrowed his eyes thoughtfully.  “There’s something familiar about her, but I can’t quite place it.  I could swear I’ve seen her somewhere.”

Oliver felt a prickle of uneasiness.  Constantine moved in dark and unusual circles.  If he’d seen the woman in his daily life, there was a decent chance there was something dark or unusual about _her_.  Felicity could be in trouble.  “Where do you think you met her?” he asked worriedly.

Constantine continued to stare at the woman.  Then he smiled suddenly.  “It’s her profile,” he said.  “From the side, she looks exactly like a demon I ran into in Hell.”

“A demon?”  Oliver’s worry increased.

Constantine nodded.  “But only from the side.  Mazikeen…the demon I met…had half a face.  From one side, she was a beautiful woman.  From the other…well she was just a skeleton and tendons.  This woman’s face looks pretty complete to me – and very attractive.  I don’t think it’s her.”

Oliver wasn’t entirely appeased.  “You don’t think she could have done something to…oh, I don’t know…fill in the rest of her face?”

Constantine shrugged.  “Maybe.  I suppose it’s doable.”  He didn’t seem terribly concerned.

Oliver, on the other hand, was beginning to feel a sense of urgency.  Felicity and the possible-demon-woman were looking pretty damn cozy.   “I think we need to make sure,” he said sharply, and headed across the room toward Felicity. 

Constantine shrugged and followed.


	4. Lucifer's Intervention, Part 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, once more this went a little long and it looks like there will be at least 5 chapters. I want to thank Galaxia for the comment about Felicity seeing things differently because of her religion. I used that idea in this chapter and expect to in the next chapter as well.  
> And for the folks wishing for Deckerstar...well, we should get that in the next chapter, too.

Oliver was surprised when Felicity didn't spot him as he moved through the Friday evening crowd toward the pool table in the back of Beer Belly. She had an uncanny sense for his presence; he often found her waiting for him behind a door as he opened it. Tonight, however, she was laughing with the dark-haired, leather-wearing, possible demon-woman and didn't notice him. He was just one of a group of mostly men who had gathered around the table.

He was pretty sure the men were there for more than just a display of Eight-ball. Felicity looked beautiful tonight. Her blonde hair was free of its customary ponytail and loose on her shoulders, and the soft, blue top she was wearing brought out the blue in her eyes. She and the possible demon-woman were a study in attractive contrasts; Felicity was light and sunny, and the demon-woman was dark and exotic. Still, the two of them seemed compatible and were clearly enjoying each other's company. Felicity was moving in a confident and (to Oliver's mind) too damn alluring way, given the number of young men hovering around. In fact, she looked happier than he'd seen her in some time. He almost hated to bring up the whole demon thing. But her safety came first.

"Well, I guess we won't be spending the rest of the evening with you," the demon-woman was saying to two of the guys standing near the pool table, "unless you want to go double or nothing? I could use a new television." Felicity grinned but remained silent.

The guys shook their heads and mumbled something that Oliver couldn't quite make out. Their disappointment was palpable.

"No? Well then, have a good evening, boys. My friend and I have other business to take care of." And the woman made a shooing motion at the men, as if to sweep them out of the bar. They turned and moved slowly away, their expressions droopy. To Oliver's satisfaction, Felicity didn't appear at all concerned by their departure. She laid her cue stick on the pool table and took the demon-woman by the arm.

"We need to get back to the girls," she said to the woman. "Linda's probably wondering why we've been away so long."

_Linda?_ Oliver thought. _Who the hell is Linda?_ _Could she be a demon too? And while we're at it, who the hell are "the girls?"_

He decided it was time to stop hovering in the background and find out.

He elbowed his way through the crowd so that when Felicity turned, she was staring directly into his chest. She couldn't miss him. "Felicity?"

She looked up and her jaw dropped. "Oliver?" The happy smile disappeared from her face and he thought her expression might even be a bit guilty. After a few seconds, she stammered, "I thought you were working late tonight."

Crap - he'd forgotten he'd fed her a small fib. It was his turn for a little guilt. "I had intended to," he explained fairly truthfully, "but I got a call from an old friend asking if I wanted to go out for a drink…and we ended up at Beer Belly."

"Oh." She glanced over his shoulder, looking for his friend. "Is she still here?"

He shook his head. "It's a _he_ , not a _she_ , Felicity. It's John Constantine." He searched for Constantine but the man was yards away talking to a waitress - either chatting her up or ordering another beer, Oliver figured. "You remember him from last year when he helped Sara?"

She nodded.

"But what about _your_ friend?" He gestured toward the woman, anxious to resolve the issue of her demonic origins. "I'm certain I haven't ever had the pleasure. Are you going to introduce me?"

Felicity nodded again, reluctantly this time. "Oliver, this is Maze." She turned to the woman. "Maze, this is Oliver Queen." To Oliver's disappointment, Felicity didn't volunteer any further details.

The dark-haired woman boldly looked him up and down. She was extending her hand toward his when her eyes suddenly lit up in recognition and she pulled the hand back. "This is the asshole boyfriend!" she exclaimed, turning toward Felicity.

"Yes," Felicity began, and then blushed. "No," she corrected. "I mean, _I_ didn't call you an asshole," she explained to Oliver. "That's just what Maze started calling you after I told the girls about us."

There it was again - _the girls_. The girls he hadn't met and with whom she had obviously shared some personal details - details that included him. Based on Maze's reaction, it sounded like he hadn't come out too well in the story. "Just _who_ did you talk to about us?" Oliver asked, hoping he didn't sound as defensive as he felt.

She gave him a nervous look. "I met a group of women a few months ago," Felicity said vaguely, offering no further information on the _where_ or the _how_. "You know how women are when we get together. We ended up talking about girly stuff like shoes and relationships. I told them how it took you two years to figure out that you loved me, another year to be with me, and then finally how you lied to me and ended our engagement. That's when Maze gave you the nickname." After a second she added innocently, "I didn't tell them anything else."

Oliver coughed. In his opinion, she'd told them more than enough. Felicity had just summarized their last five years together in one relatively short sentence. It wasn't an entirely accurate sentence, either. Strictly speaking, _Felicity_ was the one who had ended the engagement, not him. But then, that wasn't really the point. The point was that he knew _exactly_ how women were when they got together. They went from complete strangers to besties in ten minutes. He worried that in this case, Felicity may have over-shared with some women she didn't know, one of whom was possibly a demon. He needed to figure out what was going on. "Felicity-" he began.

He didn't get any further. Maze cut him off.

"I have to hand it to you," she said to Felicity as if Oliver weren't there, "you've got good taste. He's easy to look at and seems to be in great shape." She eyed Oliver from head to toe once more and he wondered if this was how a prize steer felt on the auction block – any second she might come over to feel his hindquarters. "Is he good in bed?" Maze asked Felicity abruptly. "I remember you mentioning that the other boyfriend was."

Felicity flushed scarlet, and Oliver immediately felt defensive again. Just who -- who wasn't him -- had Felicity considered good enough in bed to talk about? Ray? Billy Malone? Certainly not her college boyfriend, Cooper.

Felicity shook her head. "Maze, let's not go there."

Maze laughed. "C'mon, Smoak," she prompted. "You don't need to give all the specifics. Just tell me - on a scale of one to ten, he's a…" She stopped and held out her hands expectantly.

"A nine," Felicity mumbled, refusing to meet Oliver's eyes.

A _nine?_ He recalled more than a few nights where she'd been too sated to talk. He stared at her and she shrugged apologetically. "I'm sorry Oliver, but by definition there's no such thing as perfect. No one gets a ten."

He felt marginally better before he remembered that this was a totally inappropriate conversation. Yes, she'd given him the highest possible mark, but they were once again getting off point. They needed to resolve the issue of the demon.

"Felicity-" he began more determinedly.

"What did I miss?" This time the interruption came from a male voice. He turned to find Constantine at his elbow, grinning broadly at the two women. "Have we figured out whether she's a demon yet?" John asked bluntly, pointing at Maze with the hand not holding his beer.

Oliver cringed. _Thank you, Constantine_. He had planned on approaching the subject subtly, with a series of questions about where Maze grew up, what she did for a living and how she'd met Felicity. Any inconsistencies in her story, he figured, would lead to the revelation that she was a demon, and break the news to Felicity gently. He hadn't planned on accusing her outright, especially since most people didn't believe demons existed. If Maze turned out to be totally normal – say, a dental hygienist from Seattle who happened to like black leather - he was going to be explaining himself to Felicity for the next week. Maybe two weeks, if she told the story to their colleague, John Diggle.

"You mean you don't remember me?" Maze was staring at Constantine with a look of astonishment on her face. "I would have thought I'd made more of an impression."

"So we _have_ met," Constantine confirmed. "I definitely thought you looked familiar. I just couldn't suss out where or when."

She shook her head disbelievingly. "Maze is short for _Mazikeen_." She glanced at what was left of the crowd still clustered around the pool table and lowered her voice to a harsh whisper. "And of course I'm a demon. We met in Hell, John Constantine. I can't believe you don't remember."

Constantine frowned. "Metaphorical hell?"

She shook her head again. "No…the real thing."

Understanding flooded Constantine's face and he nodded cheerfully. "Ah, I see. That _was_ you. Well, I have to say that the face you're using now is much more attractive, luv. It's probably why I couldn't place you right away."

She shrugged. "I suppose that makes sense."

Oliver felt his heart sink to his toes. The woman really _was_ a demon. Felicity had months ago befriended a _demon_ and he was just finding out about it now. Who knew what dark magic the woman had been able to work in that time, especially on such an optimistic soul? He tried to think back to his conversations with Felicity and recall any moments when she was clearly not herself, but nothing immediately came to mind. Thank God Constantine was in town, because he could at least ask John to perform some kind of soul purification ceremony, just to be sure. It would give him peace of mind and it certainly would make Felicity feel better. She must be terrified.

Except…she didn't look terrified. She was a little flushed, but she was regarding the demon Mazikeen with a curious and relatively sanguine expression.

"So you really _are_ a demon?" she asked Maze softly.

Maze nodded.

Felicity looked at her thoughtfully. "There's a _Mazikeen_ in Jewish folklore," she said. "She's one of the Lilim – a daughter of Lilith."

Maze grinned. "That's me. Very good, Smoak. Most people don't know that."

Felicity smiled. "My mother and I used to read the stories together when I was a kid. The Lilim were night spirits, and they were particularly tough on men. My dad had just left us at the time, and I used to imagine the Lilim hunting him down and making him repent. So...Mazikeen…that's really you?"

Maze nodded. "That's me. I kind of lost my tracking powers when I came to Earth," she said regretfully. "If you know where your father is, though, I can still make him repent," she added more brightly, forming a fist with one hand.

Felicity shook her head. "No, no…that's okay. Thanks for the offer, but my father and I have made our peace." Her smile at Maze grew warmer.

Maze smiled back. "No problem. If you ever change your mind, just give me a call. Making people repent is right up my alley."

"Will do."

"Felicity!" Oliver's head was spinning. She was practically beaming at Mazikeen; she had clearly lost her grip on reality and couldn't see the danger she was in. "We should get out of here now and have Constantine check you over – make sure you're not possessed or anything. You've been hanging out with a demon! God knows what she might have done to you."

Mazikeen turned from Felicity to Oliver and her smile faded to a much less friendly expression. She looked dark and powerful, and if he'd had any doubts before, he believed whole-heartedly in that moment that she was not of this earth. "Lower your voice about the whole _D-E-M-O-N_ thing, Asshole Boyfriend," she hissed sharply. "I haven't _done_ anything to Felicity, other than show her a good time. We've gone out drinking, sung a little karaoke, and now we're playing pool. I keep to my word. I told Felicity when we first met that I only punish those who deserve it, and that's definitely _not_ her." She hesitated. "You, on the other hand…"

"Maze…" Felicity warned, glancing toward Oliver with a worried expression.

Maze threw up her hands. "Oh, don't worry, Smoak. I won't touch him. I can tell you still care for him." She paused. "But, frankly, even if the two of you eventually kiss and make up, I think you could do better. He hasn't always treated you well. Of course, I understand it if you want to keep him around for sex…"

"Maze…" Felicity said again, more embarrassed this time.

"Right. I'll drop it."

"Never a dull moment with you, is there, mate?" Constantine said to Oliver, grinning cheekily. "You know, luv," he added to Felicity, "if Oliver's not up to the job and you want to keep _me_ around for sex…"

"Constantine!" Oliver said sharply.

The man chuckled, unrepentant. "Right, scratch that idea." In a stage whisper, he said to Felicity, "I'll give you my number, just in case. Feel free to text me when the Big Guy's gone." Both Maze and Felicity laughed.

Oliver glared at Constantine, disappointed that the man wasn't taking the whole _Felicity's been hanging_ _around a demon_ thing more seriously. For a few seconds, Oliver wished he'd stayed in his office working the Star City budget tonight. In the two hours since he'd left City Hall, he discovered that: 1. Felicity was a pool shark. 2. She'd been friends with a demon for months. 3. She'd shared details of their love-life with said demon. 4. She didn't seem bothered by any of the above. He wasn't sure whether he should be proud of her for her willingness to accept people regardless of their origins, or exasperated with her for putting herself at risk. Either way, Oliver decided he would have been perfectly happy being in the dark about all of this.

Then he remembered his priority was Felicity's safety.

He reached out and gently took her hand. The action rendered him silent for a few seconds; he'd forgotten how good holding her hand could feel. It was like completing an electric circuit – allowing energy and warmth to flow between them like current. Then he spoke. "C'mon," said quietly, "we're leaving." Before she could protest he added, "If for no other reason than to preserve my sanity, Felicity, you and I are going to talk. Please – I _need_ to talk to you." He made it a plea, not an order.

She looked up at him and her face was full of compassion. She separated her fingers and entwined them in his and he could tell that she didn't want to cause him worry. But then she shook her head. "I'm sorry, Oliver, but I can't leave right now," she said regretfully. "I promised the girls I'd help them with something." She squeezed his hand. "We can talk later tonight, though. I can give you a call when I get home?"

_The girls_ \- those friggin', mysterious, unnamed girls. Who were they that she seemed to feel such loyalty to them? He sighed and kept his fingers threaded through hers. "I don't know, Felicity. Can you appreciate how I might be concerned about you hanging out with a demon?"

She nodded. "I can, but I really don't think you need to worry about Maze. She didn't try to trick me, Oliver. She said all along that she was a demon. I just didn't believe her. And she's been nice." Her eyes crinkled mischievously. "Nicer to me than your mother ever was."

That was setting the bar pretty low, Oliver thought, and then immediately felt ashamed. She was his _mother_ , after all, and now deceased. Still, Moira Queen had been protective of her family and a lioness to outsiders. And Felicity had definitely been an outsider.

He looked down at their clasped hands. "I suppose-" he began.

"Is everything okay? Maze, Felicity – what in God's name is taking you so long? He'll be here any minute." Felicity started and quickly pulled her hand out of Oliver's. He exhaled sharply in exasperation. It appeared he was never was going to be able to talk to her without _someone_ interrupting.

Then he did a double take. This latest intrusion came from a blonde woman. If he hadn't already met Felicity's mom, he might have thought that _thi_ s woman was her mother – or, on closer examination, maybe an older sister. She was Felicity's height, with blonde, shoulder length hair and glasses. Like Felicity, she gave off an aura of intelligence and competence. She must be one of _the girls_ , he thought, although in her case, _woman_ seemed more appropriate. It wasn't her age; it was her air of authority. Even Maze looked ready to line up and salute.

"Hey Doc," Maze said to the blonde woman. "Look who we ran into." She pointed at Oliver. "This is Felicity's asshole boyfriend."

The woman paused to study him. "Nice to meet you," she hesitated, "Oliver?" When he nodded, she continued, "You and I should really spend some time together. We could discuss your commitment issues. Unfortunately, right now is not appropriate. The girls and I have something we have to do."

There it was again. "Who the hell are _the girls_?" Oliver asked Felicity bluntly, unable to take it any longer.

"More importantly," a male voice said from behind him. "Why are they here in Star City?" Oliver spun around to see a tall man wearing a black suit, his white shirt open at the collar. "Felicity, my dear," the man said to her, "I can see you've been busy doing more than creating my new identity." The man gestured toward Maze and the blonde woman. "You brought the cavalry. Whatever happened to our agreement?"

The man's accent was British, his hair and eyes were dark, and he had a good five o'clock shadow going. Judging by the goggle-eyed stares of the women in the area, he was incredibly attractive. _Smooth,_ was the word that kept popping into Oliver's mind; the kind of guy who not only looked good, but who could talk people into doing just about anything. The kind of guy who took care of himself, and didn't worry about others.

And the man knew Felicity. They had an _agreement_.

She stared at the man. "I _did_ create the new identity for you," she said softly. "I've got a sealed envelope in my car with all the information. I promise you, the girls haven't seen it." She hesitated. "But I thought before you took it and disappeared, you should talk to the people who care about you. At least tell _them_ your reasons for going. Like I told you before, I've got experience with loved ones leaving. It doesn't solve anything."

Smooth British Guy shook his head. "Felicity, all you had to do was set up the accounts. How it impacts me or the people in my life...well, that isn't really your business."

"It is if you make me a party to your disappearance," Felicity said with an edge to her voice. She sounded exactly like she did when she and Oliver were building toward an argument.  For a brief second Oliver felt a little sympathy for Smooth British Guy. He didn't realize he was moving into dangerous territory. Then he remembered that he didn't like the man and should be happy that Felicity wasn't susceptible to his charm.

The blonde woman spoke up. "It's a moot point whether Felicity should have told us," she said to Smooth British Guy. "She did, and so now we're going to talk. We've got a table, and we're all going to sit around it, and you can explain to us why you need to leave. In the end, we can't stop you if you really want to go, Lucifer. But you should be sure that's what you really want."

Lucifer? Smooth British Guy's name was _Lucifer_?

"When you say we're _all_ going to sit around," Felicity said nervously to the blonde, "I assume that doesn't include me. My job was to get him here." She nodded at Lucifer. "I really don't know him very well and I don't think I can help much with this next part. I should probably go."

The blonde shrugged. "I think you bring a useful perspective, but I can understand why the process might make you uncomfortable." She nodded. "Fair enough, Felicity. We can catch up later."

"Oh, no, no, no," Lucifer shook his head. "She's responsible for my new identity," he said to the blonde, while pointing at Felicity. "The information's in her car. I'll sit and listen to whatever mumbo jumbo you and Maze want to spew, but Felicity doesn't get to leave until I make sure I can access all my new records."

"Besides," Maze said to Felicity, "don't you want to see how this all turns out?"

Based on Felicity's facial expression, the answer to that question was clearly _no_. Oliver was inclined to agree. One thing was for sure, he wasn't going to leave Felicity alone with a demon and a smooth-talker named Lucifer.

"If Felicity's staying," he said firmly. "Then I'm staying."

The blonde woman nodded in resignation. "Fine."


	5. Intervention Part 4, No Sympathy for the Devil

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I am sorry for the wait for this chapter. I wrote myself into a predicament by putting Lucifer and Constantine together and was truly stuck. Despite both being DC/Vertigo, their universes on TV are not entirely compatible. On "Lucifer," the devil’s job was/is to punish the guilty. We get a sense he doesn’t come after folks who don’t deserve it. On "Constantine," Constantine states that the devil takes souls…period; which I presume means he takes good as well as bad ones. So, who is the good guy and who is the bad guy? 
> 
> I didn’t want either character to be the bad guy. So, I decided to stick with the TV universes, do my best to be true to their personalities, and hope it works. The first draft of this chapter was very dark, which didn’t fit with the rest of the story, so I ended up rewriting…twice. I don’t think fans of the comics will like it, but it’s unlikely the comic-guys read this because it features Felicity Smoak, and they seem to have a strong antipathy for her. (God forbid we have a female character with brains who dares to question the hero.) 
> 
> Anyhow, thanks very much for reading. Double thank you to anyone who recommended this story to someone else. Hope to finish in the next chapter.

Well, this was a fine, fucking kettle of fish, or whatever it was that humans said when things didn’t go their way.  Lucifer had expected to arrive at the bar, spend a half hour with the lovely Ms. Smoak making sure he could access his new accounts, and then disappear into the night as Leo DiVenus – all digital traces of Lucifer Morningstar erased.  Instead, he’d been ambushed; the bloody little blonde had called for reinforcements. 

He’d chosen the name “Leo” from 1 Peter 5:8. _“Be sober-minded and alert. Your adversary the devil prowls_ _around like a roaring lion seeking someone to devour.”_   He’d always liked that one.   In general, he thought he got lousy press in both the Old and New Testaments.  But being compared to a roaring lion had a certain dignity.  Peter had done him a fair turn.

The reference had been obscure enough to go over Felicity’s intelligent, blonde head.  “You don’t look like a _Leo_ ,” she’d said, wrinkling her nose when he’d given her his new moniker.  “And if you want to disappear, then wouldn’t it help to pick something a little more forgettable?  Like, I don’t know, Joe Johnson or David Smith?  People might remember meeting a _Leo_.  And _DiVenus_ isn’t much better.”

“I’m not trying to be forgettable, Felicity,” he’d corrected her, not bothering to explain the Biblical nor the morning star allusions.  “I just don’t want any ties back to Lucifer Morningstar.  I trust you can erase all links when you transfer the funds into the new accounts.”

She’d sighed. “Of course.”

He’d assumed that the extra care she’d taken to render the transfer untraceable accounted for the two days required to make it happen.  Standing here now, however, amid the pool tables in this bright, modern pretext for a bar, it was clear she’d used the time to get Maze and Linda to Star City.  No doubt the two ladies (if you could call Maze a _lady_ ) were there to talk him into returning to LA.  That wasn’t a problem -- he could handle that.  More worrisome was the muscle-bound, blue-eyed guy hovering protectively over Felicity and the thin, blonde man standing next to him.   Lucifer didn’t have a clue who Blue-Eyes was, but he was certainly aware of the other man’s identity.  Angels and demons alike had stories about John Constantine, aka Hellblazer.  And here he was in the flesh, in a fitted white shirt and rumpled trench coat looking like he hadn’t slept in two days. 

The question was; how aware was Constantine of _him_?  

Or, more precisely; how aware was Constantine of him with his earthly face?  What exactly had Felicity told him?

Lucifer had had no interaction with the man on earth and very little in Hell.  Maze, good soldier that she was, had largely been the one to deal with _Hellblazer_ in the Underworld.  Judging by the way she was coolly eyeing Constantine now, they’d already sorted out how they’d met and come to some kind of truce.  Lucifer found the fact that they weren’t at each other’s throats encouraging.  While he was -- strictly speaking -- immortal (except around Chloe, apparently), he wasn’t anxious to put that fact to the test in an unfamiliar bar in Star City. For a few seconds, he even considered trying to fool Constantine by brassing it out as an ordinary human.  Then he discarded the idea.  Constantine was rumored to have considerable power when it came to detecting the supernatural.  And more practically, Linda Martin had already addressed him as “Lucifer” and he was acquainted with the demon, Mazikeen.   Even a lesser man than Constantine might put two and two together.   

Besides, Lucifer abhorred lying.

He nodded at the blonde man.  “Constantine,” he acknowledged dryly.

Constantine’s eyes narrowed.  “Lucifer Morningstar, as I live and breathe.  I heard you were on holiday.” His voice was cocky, no sign of nerves.  “I also heard you were staying in LA.  So what brings you to Star City?”

The big, blue-eyed chap next to Constantine stiffened at the words _Star City,_ as if he owned the place.  His gaze moved anxiously between Constantine and Lucifer before settling on Lucifer’s face.

Lucifer returned Blue-Eyes’ look briefly and then replied to Constantine, “Didn’t Felicity tell you?  I assume since she called you, you already know why I’m here.” When Constantine said nothing, Lucifer continued impatiently, “I came for IT assistance.  Little Ms. Smoak was supposed to create accounts and move some funds for me on the Q.T.  I had hoped to get the information tonight and be quietly on my way, but apparently she decided she wanted backup and called you.  To be honest, I’m a bit wounded that she doesn’t trust me.” 

Constantine shook his head.  “Felicity didn’t call us.  Running into her tonight was a coincidence.”

_A coincidence?  Really_?  What were the odds?  Lucifer shot a glance at the blonde.  Her reaction suggested Constantine was telling the truth; she hadn’t called Hellblazer and this wasn’t some kind of plot to send Lucifer to…well, wherever Constantine might want to try to send Lucifer.   Still, the fair-faced Ms. Smoak had proven both sneakier and less susceptible to Lucifer’s influence than many people, and if there was any human with the skill to trick the Devil, it was John Constantine.  Lucifer decided his best chance of getting to the bottom of this was to focus on Constantine’s friend, the big, blue-eyed fellow.  Blue-Eyes was brimming with repressed emotion, as easy to read as a highway billboard.

He nodded at the man.  “And who might you be?  You appear to be the muscles in this outfit.”

Blue-Eyes bristled. “Oliver Queen, Mayor of Star City.  Who the hell are you?”  In the two short sentences, Lucifer read anger, confusion and worry.

The man’s response was genuine.  He was clearly in the dark about Lucifer and none too happy about it.  That supported _coincidence_  -- which meant there wasn’t a plan and Lucifer might not have to battle it out with Constantine, either physically or supernaturally.  He smiled at Queen.  “The mayor?  In a local watering hole?  I’m impressed.  As Constantine said, my name’s Lucifer Morningstar--”

“Otherwise known as the Lord of Hell,” Constantine interjected. 

“—and I’m in Star City because I heard from Maze that Ms. Smoak is a very good hacker.  And I need the services of a good hacker.”

The explanation did nothing to lessen Queen’s anger.  He placed his body between Lucifer and Felicity, the muscle fibers in his large arms twitching.  “When you say he’s the _Lord of Hell_ , do you mean metaphorical hell?” he asked Constantine.

Constantine shook his head.  “No…the real thing.  Same as Maze.”  

Queen’s face darkened and he clenched his fists.  He appeared undecided whether to punch Lucifer in the face or pick up Felicity and run out of the bar.   

Lucifer raised one hand reassuringly.  “I’m not the Lord of Hell any longer, Mr. Queen.  I’m on vacation.  In fact, I’m thinking of making it a permanent sabbatical.”  He smiled winningly. “I’ve been running a very successful nightclub, you see.  I find I’ve got a flair for the hospitality industry.  And I’ve been doing a little consulting with the LAPD as well.”

His explanation was greeted with silence – a strange kind of silence.  Queen frowned, as if unable to make sense of Lucifer’s very simple words, and even Constantine looked puzzled. Lucifer may as well have just clucked like a chicken for all the response he was generating.

Finally, Queen spoke.  “You run a nightclub,” he repeated.

Lucifer nodded, “Yes, that’s right.”

“The Devil,” Queen said again, to no one in particular, “ _the_ Devil has left Hell to run a nightclub.”

Lucifer nodded once more.  “You’re a little slow, but I think you’re getting it.”

Queen turned to Constantine with a _what the fuck?_ expression on his face and Constantine stared back at Queen with pretty much the same look.  “Seriously?” Constantine asked Lucifer. “You run a nightclub?  You don’t take souls anymore?  You don’t plan to go _back_ to taking souls?”

His voice sounded different – less cocky -- and it took Lucifer a few seconds to realize that was because it was filled with hope.  The words emerged stiffly, as if Constantine was out of practice at being hopeful.   Lucifer recalled stories of the man’s soul being earmarked for Hell upon death and realized Constantine believed he may have just been granted a reprieve.  Lucifer shook his head and said more quietly, “I never was the one to _take_ the souls, John, only the guy who punished them once they arrived.” He saw Constantine’s shoulders slump.  “If someone’s got an eye on your soul – well, that’s between you and them.  Not much I can do.”

“But you’re not going to be waiting there to punish me?” Constantine sounded determined to hold onto a little bit of that hope.

“No, I’m not going to punish you -- unless you do something up here to piss me off.”

“So who _is_ running things in Hell then?”

Lucifer shrugged.  “Don’t know.  Don’t care.”

Queen shook his head disbelievingly.  “Lucifer Morningstar has left Hell to run a nightclub,” he said for a third time.  Lucifer wondered, as he often did, why everyone seemed to struggle with such a simple fact.  Plenty of other people switched careers, so why shouldn’t he?  And why was no one paying attention to the part about working with the LAPD?  Surely that had to put him in a favorable light. 

Queen turned to Felicity.  “Did you know who he is?” he asked her quietly.   “Did you know you were hacking on behalf of the Devil?”  His voice was steady, but there was no mistaking the tension in it.  When Felicity didn’t immediately answer, he added more forcefully, “Are you _crazy_?”

She blushed an attractive shade of pink, although it wasn’t clear to Lucifer whether the blush was driven by embarrassment, fear or defiance.  She stared up at Queen, uncomfortable but by no means apologetic.  Lucifer was certain that she _hadn’t_ known his identity, despite what he’d revealed to her when she’d looked into his eyes a couple of nights ago, and was curious to see her reaction.  At the moment, however, she appeared more concerned by Queen’s attitude than Lucifer’s pedigree.  In fact, Felicity was taking the whole _Lucifer-is-the_ - _Devil-thing_ more calmly than Linda had; she wasn’t trembling or looking at _him_ with revulsion.  Sure – she seemed startled, but she hadn’t gone catatonic like the good Doctor upon hearing the news.  But then again, she hadn’t seen his true face.

She peered around Queen’s body at Lucifer as if to ask: _is it true_?  When he nodded, she returned her eyes to Queen.   “First of all, Oliver, I didn’t know he was the Devil,” she said evenly. “I knew him as a friend of the girls and a nightclub owner – an unusual one, I’ll admit, but as he says, very successful.  He called me a couple of days ago because he wanted help creating a new identity and moving money.”

“And _that_ wasn’t a red flag?  A nightclub owner comes to you out of the blue and wants you to hack for him?  Move money for him?  Felicity, I thought you were smarter than that.”

Her blush grew deeper.  “Oliver, _you_ were a nightclub owner who came to me out of the blue asking me to hack.  And _his_ reasons weren’t as lame as yours.”

_Touché, Felicity_!  Lucifer couldn’t help laughing when Queen looked at the blonde, opened his mouth… and no words came.  For all of Queen’s height, muscle and intensity, Felicity wasn’t the least bit intimidated.  Lucifer was beginning to understand why Maze liked the girl.

“Besides, Oliver,” Felicity continued, beginning to gather momentum, “I’m Jewish, remember?  We don’t have the same account of a fallen angel sent down to rule Hell that you do.  We believe our souls may need to be cleansed after death, but not punished.  So, even if he is – or was -- the Lord of Hell, I’m not sure he has the same effect on me that he might have on you or Constantine.”  She gave him a small smile. “And anyway, as you can see, he hasn’t done a thing to hurt me.  I’m fine.”

Queen found his voice again.  “I don’t want to disrespect your heritage, Felicity, but you’ve got proof that the Devil exists standing right in front of you.”  He gestured at Lucifer.    “You can’t just pretend him away and assume you’re safe because he doesn’t fit with your beliefs.”

“I’m not saying he doesn’t exist, Oliver.  I’m saying he might not affect me the same way.” 

Well, that’s an interesting hypothesis, Lucifer thought, and might explain why she wasn’t as freaked out as Linda had been.   Felicity was suggesting that his power over people could be tempered by their beliefs.  A few weeks ago he would have chuckled at the theory, but his recent visit to Hell gave him pause.  He’d traveled there to recover information needed to save Detective Chloe Decker’s life and had become stuck, trapped by the guilt he bore over his brother’s death.  Only when he’d let go of that guilt had he been able to leave.  The power had come from him and his conscience.  Maybe humans had a diluted version of that power.

His brother, Amenadiel, probably had a long-winded opinion about this – which Lucifer wouldn’t hear unless or until Amenadiel was able to find him.  In the meantime, Lucifer was curious about Linda’s thoughts.  She was a therapist, after all and made her living exploring the human mind.  She must have an educated guess, at least.  At the moment, she was standing next to Maze, both of them quietly following the discussion.   Linda looked concerned, a small crease wrinkling her brow.  Maze looked mildly amused.

“What do you think, Doctor?” Lucifer asked Linda.  “Do you think my power over people is impacted by their beliefs?”

She didn’t like the question.  He could tell right away, because she shot him the same annoyed look she used whenever he abruptly changed topic in a therapy session. “Are you asking me that from a theological or a psychological perspective, Lucifer?” she asked tersely.  “Because if it’s theological, I really don’t think I’m qualified--”   

“I’m asking it from a practical perspective, Doctor.  And you’re a therapist… _my_ therapist.  If anyone’s qualified to answer, it’s you.”

“Your _therapist_?”  Queen interrupted incredulously.  Good heavens, the man liked to repeat things.  Queen turned to Constantine and stated flatly, “The Devil has a therapist.”

Constantine glanced at Linda.  “Apparently so,” he replied.  After a short pause, he added almost apologetically, “And I’m actually interested in her answer to his question.  This could affect me, mate.”

Linda shook her head.  “The answer is that I don’t know.  Until Lucifer, all my experience has been with human patients.  And for them…yes, the mind can be powerful -- up to a point.  I mean, we’ve all heard of the placebo effect, where a physical ailment disappears because the individual believes he or she has been given a cure.  Once we get into the supernatural realm…well, there isn’t exactly a large database of studies out there.”

“We could try an experiment,” Lucifer offered.  “We’ve got a couple of test subjects right here.” Before anyone could object, he turned towards Felicity.  “Felicity, my dear, what is it that you want most in the world?”  He’d tried this on her once before, the night they’d first met in an LA bar.  She’d given a rather silly answer at the time, but he’d chalked it up to alcohol and the possibility that she was a silly woman.  He knew now that was far from the case.

Queen stiffened and said, “Felicity” protectively.  But Lucifer had already caught her attention.  She stepped from behind Oliver and stared at Lucifer, stammering slowly, “I…don’t want to answer that question right now.”

Interesting.  He sensed that if he pushed harder, he could get a response; she wasn’t immune, like Chloe.  But her level of resistance was higher than many humans.  To get her to spill the beans, Lucifer would have to bring his A Game.   He turned to Queen.  “And you, Oliver, what is it that you want most in the world?”

Queen frowned angrily, but only hesitated a few seconds.  “I want Felicity,” he said in quiet voice.

“Felicity?  Really?” Lucifer supposed he should have seen that one coming.  Queen had assumed the role of her human shield as soon as he’d learned Lucifer’s identity.  “You mean you want her in bed?” he asked.

Queen shook his head.  “No…I mean, yes, I want her in bed, but not just in bed.  I want her with me for the rest of my life.  I want her to marry me, like we had planned on before.”  He abruptly stopped speaking and shook his head as if to clear it.  He glanced irately at Lucifer and then uncomfortably at Felicity.

Experiment over. Apparently beliefs could have an impact on his power. Unfortunately, the test had also succeeded in producing a very awkward silence. Normally, Lucifer didn't mind _awkward_ , but in this case he had some empathy for Queen. Having feelings for a woman that you don't want to reveal – well, he could relate to that. Lucifer had to give Felicity credit, though. She reached out and squeezed Queen's hand, but said nothing and didn't meet his eyes, giving him space to compose himself. Constantine and Linda tried to give him a moment as well by studiously regarding their shoes.

Only Maze had no interest in discretion.  She stared at Queen.  “Then what the hell are you doing dating that reporter woman?” she demanded. 

Queen lifted his eyes quickly to Maze.  “What?" 

“It’s a simple question, Asshole Boyfriend.  If you love and want Felicity,” the demon repeated, “then why are you seeing someone else?  You should be fighting to get Felicity back.  She still loves you, you know.”  She turned to Linda.  “Really, Doc, when we’re done with Lucifer’s intervention I think we need to do one with this guy.” She pointed her thumb at Queen.  “He certainly needs a wakeup call.”

“Maze--” Linda began at the same time that Lucifer said, “Intervention?”

The Devil and the Doctor looked at one another.  No one else said a word.

“What’s this about an intervention?” Lucifer asked again, directing the question at Linda.  Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Maze and Felicity exchanging nervous looks.

Linda cleared her throat. “You disappeared, Lucifer,” she began calmly, in her therapist’s voice. “You disappeared after what we both know was a very traumatic event, without talking to any of the people who care about you.”  She paused and took a deep breath. “So, when Felicity called and said you were looking to create a new identity, the girls and I decided to stage an intervention.”

He frowned.  “An intervention to do what?”

She shook her head, like a teacher disappointed in a student.  “To get you to talk about why you want to leave.  After all our sessions together, I would have thought you’d learned that running from a problem doesn’t make it go away.”

He shrugged.  “In this case, Doctor, I’m going to beg to differ.  I think running away is _exactly_ what might solve my problem.” 

“Without considering the alternatives?  And without telling anyone that you’re leaving -- not even Maze, your oldest friend?”

“Well, of course I couldn’t tell anyone.  You all would just try to talk me out of it.  You’ve just proven that.”

Linda nodded.  “We might try to talk you out of it,” she agreed steadily. “But so what if we did?  If you’re so sure leaving is the right thing, then there’s no chance any of _us_ can make you change your mind, right?  _We_ don’t have the power to hold you in LA.  So, all you’re going to lose is a little bit of time.  And you’ll leave knowing you’ve exhausted all your options.”

Well that was certainly true.   He gestured toward Felicity.  “Did she give you my new name when she called?” he asked Linda cautiously.

His therapist shook her head.  “No, of course not. Felicity just let us know that you were planning to leave.  She didn’t give us any information about your new identity.”  Lucifer could tell that statement was also true.  Like him, Linda didn’t lie -- it was one of the things he liked about her.  The Doctor held out her hands. “All we want to do tonight is talk to you about it, Lucifer,” she said reasonably.  “After we’ve done that, if you still feel that leaving LA is your best option…well, then you leave.”

It sounded fair enough when Linda stated it in her rational, reasonable way.  As she said, all it was going to cost him was a little time – something he had in abundance.  Lucifer looked over at Maze and she nodded back at him encouragingly.  When he’d first gone into therapy, Maze had thought he’d lost his mind.  But lately she seemed to have developed respect for Linda and what could be accomplished simply by talking.

He sighed.  “Fine,” he agreed, “let the intervention begin then– although I don’t think it will change anything.”

Linda smiled.  “A chance to talk is all I ask.  We can go sit down.  Chloe and Ella are at a table.” 

Wait!  Chloe was _here_?  That changed the picture entirely. Chloe was the reason he was leaving in the first place. Chloe and the fact that she was beginning to have feelings for him when he already had feelings for her…which normally would have been good except he knew now those feelings weren’t real, they were part of some elaborate celestial game.

Lucifer didn’t move.  He could discuss this with Linda and Maze – explain the whole _Mum-and-Dad-set-me-up-to-fall-for-Chloe_ thing – but not with Chloe herself.  Her big blue-green eyes would fill with hurt, disappointment, or _something_ that wasn’t good.   She would think that Lucifer had let her down, and he couldn’t stand it when she thought that.

And if by some miracle she actually managed to be okay with the situation, then that just meant they would continue to be pawns in a game Lucifer didn’t fully understand.  And he wasn’t going to be anybody’s pawn.

He shook his head.  “I’ve changed my mind, Doctor.  I was willing to do your intervention-thing when it was just you and Maze.  But I’m not doing this with Chloe.”

Linda frowned.  “Because?”

“Because, as I’m sure you’ve already guessed, she’s the reason I’m leaving.  Can you imagine any possible scenario where that conversation is going to go well?  _Hi Chloe_ , _I’m leaving LA_ _because we’re starting to care for each other and I don’t think this thing between us should go any further_.  She’s going to wind up hurt and upset.”

“I think that horse has already left the barn, Lucifer.  Chloe became hurt and upset when you took off.”

She had?  Lucifer stared at the doctor.  He imagined Chloe being angry at him for abandoning her at work; he didn’t think they’d progressed to a point where she would be hurt.   Over to the side, he saw Queen lean down and quietly ask in Felicity’s ear, “Who’s Chloe?”

Felicity answered him softly, “She’s one of the girls -- an LAPD detective.  She and Lucifer work together.  He’s got a big thing for her.”   Lucifer noted that she was still holding Queen’s hand.

Keeping his head next to Felicity’s, Queen looked over at him curiously.  “Really,” he said.  Then he straightened up and grinned.  It was the first time Lucifer had seen the man wear anything close to a smile and it gave him a whole new look.  Up until that point, Lucifer couldn’t imagine what might attract Felicity to such a tense, humorless fellow.  But now there was a twinkle in Queen’s eyes and he looked almost boyish.  “So, let me make sure I understand,” Queen said to Felicity in a louder voice.  “Lucifer wanted you to create a new identity for him so that he could avoid a woman he has feelings for.”  She nodded.  “Yet, five minutes ago,” Queen continued, “he thought it was perfectly acceptable to force me to reveal _my_ feelings to a woman I…” he glanced once more at Felicity and stumbled slightly, “…care about.”  She blushed, but nodded again.

Queen paused, then turned to Constantine and said conversationally, “You know, John, there’s a lot of things I thought the Devil might be, but a hypocrite was never one of them.”

Constantine stared at Queen for a few seconds.  Then he suddenly grinned too.  “Me neither, mate.  I kind of like it, though.  It puts him on the same level as the rest of us mere mortals.  You know -- _do as I say, not as I do._ ”

Lucifer held up his hand.  “To be fair, gentlemen, I had no idea what Oliver was going to say when I encouraged him to reveal his deepest desire.  Had I known he has the hots for Felicity, I wouldn’t have asked.  And I most certainly am not a hypocrite.”

Queen shrugged.  “Seems like that to me,” he said, still addressing Constantine, almost as if Lucifer weren’t there.  “I mean, the guy has the ability to make people reveal their true desires but he’s unwilling to talk about his own.  It’s kind of phony – almost like lying.”

Constantine nodded.  “Yes, it is,” he agreed.  “Of course,” he continued, “it might just be that he’s frightened of the woman.  He says himself that he’s no longer the Lord of Hell.  He’s probably worried that he’s lost his smarmy charm and she’ll reject him.”

“You think?  I’d always heard that the Devil is irresistible.”

“Not anymore, mate.  Now he’s just like any other poor slob when it comes to women.  Probably goes home alone most nights and cranks the shank in the shower like the rest of us.”

Queen shook his head. “All because he’s afraid he might get turned down by a woman sitting a few yards away.  I can’t wait to tell the guys back in the office – it’ll make them feel better about not getting dates.”

This was getting ridiculous.  Lucifer tried to break in.  “My situation is more complicated than that--”

“Every guy thinks his situation is complicated,” Queen said, still speaking to Constantine. “You know my history, John.  Wouldn’t you say that _my_ situation’s complicated?”

“Sure is, mate.”

“And yet I’m going to stick my neck out there and talk with Felicity tonight.”  He held up their still-joined hands.

“Well, that’s because you’re a tough bugger, Oliver.  And not afraid to take a chance.”

Alright - this had officially passed _ridiculous_ and was truly becoming annoying. Lucifer had a feeling the men were just getting warmed up -- they were having way too much fun to stop.   None of the women were coming to his aid. Maze, in fact, was watching them with a smile forming at the corners of her mouth. He didn't think it would be too much longer before she started to chime in as well. At that point, it would become unbearable.

"Fine," he said shortly. "I'll do the bloody intervention – provided you two shut up."

The smiles came off their faces. "You're sure?" Queen asked.

"Yes, I'm sure."

Linda nodded. "That's great, Lucifer.  Maze and Felicity can show you the way to the table. I know Chloe will be relieved to see you.  I'll be there in a minute -- I'm going to order another martini. I think I'll need it."

* * *

Linda accepted her martini from the waitress and breathed a sigh of relief.  She’d dragged Chloe, Ella and Maze up from LA for this intervention, and for a few minutes she’d thought it was going to be a wasted trip.  Maze wouldn’t care, but Chloe and Ella had both taken time off of work to be here.  Not to mention that Chloe was already on pins and needles about Lucifer leaving; a refusal to talk to her would probably have put her over the edge.  Thank goodness he had come around.

As she walked toward the table, she felt a light touch at her elbow.  She looked up, surprised to see Oliver Queen by her side.

“So, Doctor,” he said lightly, “how’d I do? 

She stopped walking and turned toward him.  “I’m not sure I understand what you’re talking about.”

He smiled at her.  “How’d I do convincing Lucifer to go to his intervention?”

She didn’t return the smile.  “Is that what the schtick with you and Constantine was all about – getting Lucifer to talk to Chloe?”

He nodded.  “Absolutely.”

She shook her head.   “It could just as easily have backfired, you know.  He might have gotten annoyed and left.”

Queen shrugged.   “Maybe.  You certainly know him better than I do.  But when it comes right down to it, I get the feeling Lucifer’s a guy.   And he fell for the same thing we guys always fall for.”

“Which is?”

“You question his manhood and challenge him on the thing he’s most proud of – in this case, his honesty – and he’s going to want to prove you wrong.”

She chuckled despite herself. “So, basically you’re telling me that you double-dog-dared him to go to his intervention and he went for it.”

“Pretty much.”

She looked up and met Oliver’s eyes.  He was a very attractive man.  Not in Lucifer’s supernaturally magnetic way, but in a rugged, athletic way.  She wondered if he ever was underestimated because of it, the same way a beautiful woman is assumed to be less intelligent than her plainer sisters.  “So tell me, Oliver, why do you care what Lucifer does?  I would have thought his happiness would be the last thing on your list – why try to get him to the intervention?”

He looked at her steadily.  “You’re right.  I don’t care in the least about his happiness.”  He paused and glanced briefly at the table where Felicity was seated.  “But I care about her’s.   And I don’t want her to be at his beck and call for IT support.  I want him back in LA and out of her life.  This seemed like the best way to accomplish that.”

"If it makes you feel better, I don't believe Felicity has ever been in any danger. I've known Lucifer for about a year now, and he's never deliberately harmed anyone."

"That helps, but I still want him out of her life."

She sighed. "Well, let's hope the intervention is a success, then."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I spent more time thinking about how to resolve the Constantine/Lucifer worlds than an adult with a job should. I looked to the comics for inspiration, but in the comic world, Lucifer and Constantine have almost no contact. By the time Constantine starts doing his thing, Lucifer has long been vacationing on Earth and Hell is ruled by the First Fallen. Constantine has a drink at Lux in one story, and apparently accepts that Lucifer is no longer running Hell. And to me, that reaction is pure Constantine. The guy is not idealistic – he’s pragmatic, cunning, and he takes the path of least resistance. Even if Lucifer is the devil, Constantine’s probably going to let it go if Lucy isn’t threatening anyone. Of course, the universe is a little different on TV; there is no First Fallen on "Lucifer" (although there is on "Constantine"), and he’s been on earth for a shorter time. 
> 
> When I was doing a little online research, I found a couple of funny opinions on a Comic Vine forum where folks weighed in on what might happen if Constantine battled Lucifer. I thought they were good enough to pass on:
> 
> chaosmarvel said, “If anyone had a shot at beating Lucifer is [sic] JonCon but he isn’t winning this. Lucifer wins but John steals his wallet in the process.”
> 
> And Lucano said, “Ends in both going to the Lux to have some drinks and having a talk too awesome for the rest of the universe to comprehend.”


	6. Intervention -- All's Well?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter...the intervention finally happens.

Dr. Linda Martin took a deep swallow of her martini and glanced around the table. She'd been a practicing therapist for close to 20 years and conducted more interventions than she could remember, but she was pretty damn certain she'd never led one quite like this. And she was pretty damn certain no other therapist had led one like this either.

Because who else had the Devil as her patient?

Until recently, Linda had succeeded surprisingly well with Lucifer's therapy by calling on her extensive experience with human patients. In many ways, the former Lord of Hell was no different. He had problems with his parents and siblings, and he was strongly influenced by paternal rejection at a formative stage in his life. Lucifer might deny it, but Linda believed he would be thrilled to gain his Father's approval and be welcomed back home. All of which was familiar ground to a therapist; Daddy-issues were common in her line of work.

Sadly, that's where the similarities with humans ended. Because for Lucifer, _home_ was Heaven and his father was a deity – _the_ Deity according to many religions. Back in her LA office Linda kept a copy of the American Psychological Association's 1700 page tome prosaically entitled _The_ _Textbook of Psychiatry_. In the course of her practice she'd probably read it cover to cover a dozen times, and nowhere did it discuss how to help a fallen angel resume a constructive relationship with his divine Father. This was a shortcoming, because Linda suspected that Lucifer's inability to deal with his feelings for Chloe originated in his distrust of his parents. The only help offered by the APA's massive book would be to suggest that Lucifer was delusional – which Linda had at one time considered, but now knew to be untrue.

Unfortunately, Chloe – the object of Lucifer's fixation - was unaware of all of this. Chloe was still in what Linda liked to think of as the _Blissful Metaphor_ stage, where any references Lucifer made to being the Devil or having a Heavenly Father were interpreted as symbolic. This meant the intervention tonight was either going to reveal some big, uncomfortable facts to the Detective, or they were going to tap-dance around those facts, avoiding much of the real issue. Linda wasn't sure which was worse. Her inner-therapist disliked avoidance, but her inner-pragmatist questioned whether Chloe could handle the news that her LAPD partner and romantic interest was not human. It sure as hell had thrown Linda for a loop and she considered herself better equipped than most people to deal with emotional shocks. If they could get Lucifer back to LA _without_ the big revelation, she figured, that would be okay. They could deal with the other stuff over time.

The fact that the intervention was taking place in a bar and included two strangers in the form of Oliver Queen and John Constantine was just bad icing on an even worse cake. Queen's ability to deal with his romantic feelings didn't seem much better than Lucifer's and Constantine was – in her professional opinion – weird. She wished they would go away, but Lucifer had insisted on Felicity Smoak staying because she held the keys to his new identity. This meant that Oliver was staying as well, clearly intent on protecting her. He sat next to Felicity now, one hand resting on the back of her chair, wearing a scowl directed at the former Lord of Hell. Fortunately, Oliver wasn't in direct proximity to Lucifer; Chloe and Maze had claimed the seats on either side of Mr. Morningstar. If it came to blows, Oliver was going to have to get out of his chair and work for it.

As for Constantine, Linda wasn't sure why he was staying. Prurient interest, she guessed.

She took another swig of her drink. She noticed it was half gone and they hadn't even started the damn intervention yet. Everyone at the table was looking at her expectantly, waiting for her leadership – even Maze. _Oh, what the fuck_ , she thought, _waiting isn't going to make it better_ \- _might as well dive right in_. Nothing ever went as anticipated when Lucifer was involved, anyway. If he ended up leaving LA, if Chloe had to deal with the truth…well, there was always more therapy.

She cleared her throat. "So," she began, glancing around the table, sounding more confident than she felt, "I think we all know why we're here tonight. Lucifer recently decided to leave LA and take on a new identity, without telling any of his closest friends. He admits his plan was to disappear from our lives. Because we all care about him and want what's best for him-"

"Actually," Constantine interrupted, " _I_ don't care. He could disappear and never be heard from again and I could go on quite happily with my life."

"Yes," Lucifer said sardonically, "I imagine you could."

" _ **Because we all care about him**_ ," Linda repeated, giving Constantine her best schoolmarm look, "we wanted to take the opportunity to tell Lucifer what his leaving would mean to us. The rules of the intervention are simple; you can speak about your own feelings, but try not to project feelings or motives onto others. Those who don't know Lucifer well," she gave Queen and Constantine a pointed stare, "have the option of remaining silent – in fact the rest of us would prefer that you did."

Oliver nodded slightly. Constantine just grinned.

"How about I start?" Ella piped up cheerfully.

"Please do," Linda agreed quickly. Ella was just the right person to get the intervention going. As a forensic scientist for the LAPD she had become acquainted with Lucifer through her job, and like Chloe, was in the _Blissful Metaphor_ stage; she was unaware of his true identity. More importantly, Ella tended to be honest with her emotions and would set the tone for everyone else to follow.

"Lucifer," Ella began, looking him in the eye, "I know you've been through a tough time lately, especially watching Chloe nearly die, but that's behind you and Chloe is fine. You found a way to save her life." Ella's large brown eyes were earnest as she continued, "After all the cases we've worked together, I thought you and I had become friends – we've certainly shared some amazing hugs. It hurts that you would leave without even saying goodbye."

Lucifer stared at her. Linda thought she could see his eyes soften a bit. But he said nothing.

"Besides all that," Ella continued, "you're a good detective. You're intuitive and you can handle the gory stuff. You're an asset to the department. Why do you want to give up something you're good at? You're helping the city."

Lucifer blinked slowly. "Ella-" he began.

"No – now it's my turn," Maze broke in. "I've known Lucifer longer than anyone here. He's been my boss and I've been loyal to him, doing whatever he asked." She shook her head. "Lucifer, you're the one who _brought_ me to LA. I was perfectly happy where I was before, but I followed you because you asked me to. I found a new job and I learned how to work with and even be pleasant to…people. And now you're planning to ditch me in LA? Leave me alone – without telling me?"

To Linda's surprise, she thought she detected a small quiver in Maze's voice.

Lucifer shook his head. "Maze," he said firmly, "you're not alone. In case you haven't noticed, you've got friends now. You live with the Detective – she even trusts you enough to let you care for her child, which is pretty unbelievable, not to mention scary. You've got the Doctor here, in your corner. You've come a long way since we worked together before LA. You're not alone and you don't need me anymore."

Maze looked touched at the compliment but she still frowned. "That's not the point, Lucifer."

"Then what is the bloody point?"

"The point is that it shouldn't be easy for you to leave me. You should feel a pain in your gut the same way I feel a pain in mine."

It was as close as Maze was going to come to saying that she cared for her former boss. Lucifer appeared surprised by her admission. He looked into her dark eyes and smiled sadly. "What makes you think any of this is easy for me, Maze? You know I like living in LA, working with the LAPD," he gestured at Chloe, "and…owning Lux." He covered Maze's hand with his. It was one of the few affectionate gestures Linda had ever seen him make toward the demon. "Unfortunately, I don't have any good options. I can leave and start over, or I can stay and-"

"And what?" Chloe interrupted quietly. "Or you can stay and what, Lucifer?"

Lucifer turned from Maze to Chloe, opened his mouth and then…froze. If you looked up _deer in the headlights_ in the dictionary, Linda thought, you'd find his picture, looking exactly as he did now. At any other time it might have been funny because Lucifer was rarely at a loss for words. At this moment, however, Linda felt for him.

"You left LA immediately after I told you that I wanted to explore our relationship," Chloe continued evenly. "So I have to assume _I'm_ the reason you're leaving." She shook her head. "I don't get it, Lucifer. We've been working together for over a year now. You're a really good partner, you've always been there when I needed you, and you've certainly hinted that you'd like us to be closer. So now that I'm ready to take that step, why do you want to leave? Are you afraid?"

The rest of the table went still. Everyone (other than perhaps Queen and Constantine) knew they were getting to the crux of the matter. "I'd like to hear what you think happens if you stay in LA," the detective added.

Lucifer stared into Chloe's large, blue-green eyes. His mouth opened and closed several times before he finally said, "Staying in LA…working with you… it just means that you and I will continue to be manipulated by my family. These feelings you're having, Detective – they aren't real."

Chloe frowned. "What do you mean by _they aren't real_? I know my own feelings, Lucifer."

_Oh dear_ , Linda thought, _here it comes._ Lucifer had essentially just said that his family was the reason for him leaving. That meant that any minute now Chloe was going to learn who his Father really was…who _Lucifer_ really was. He might joke or omit information from time to time, but when you put a question directly to him he never lied. And Chloe's question had been pretty direct.

Linda doubted the Detective would take the news as calmly as Felicity Smoak had. She tried to recall whether she'd thought to bring a sedative. Hell, if Chloe didn't need it, she might take the damn thing herself.

"I mean," Lucifer continued, still addressing Chloe, "that our meeting all those months ago was a set-up. It wasn't an accident."

There were a few beats of silence as Chloe absorbed his statement, a confused look on her face. Before she could ask for clarification, however, Ella spoke up. "A set-up? Like a blind date?"

Linda almost laughed. The question was pure Ella; a little off base, yet earnest and somehow relevant. Lucifer frowned, but Chloe smiled weakly. "Definitely _not_ a date," she said to Ella, with less tension in her voice. "We met on a case. Lucifer was the primary witness in the murder of the singer, Delilah. He drove me crazy insisting that he help find her killer. That's how he eventually ended up being my partner." She paused, and Linda could see that she was recalling the details of that first case with Lucifer. "It's hard to see _how_ our meeting could have been a set-up, let alone _why_. An awful lot of pieces would have had to fall in place. I wasn't even the cop originally assigned to it."

"Well, my Father-" Lucifer began.

But Chloe interrupted him. "And even if someone _had_ managed to arrange for us to meet," she went on, turning to Lucifer, "it doesn't explain how we became partners and continued to work together for a year. When we first met, I couldn't stand you and wanted to be rid of you – remember?" She shook her head. "So if that meeting was a set-up, it was a dismal failure."

Ella glanced between the two of them. "Well, maybe not. You may have _thought_ you couldn't stand him, but don't underestimate the power of pheromones. You might have already been -"

"Oh no," Chloe shook her head. "Believe me, I wanted nothing to do with him for a good while. It took weeks before I could even _tolerate_ working with him, and months before I would admit he was helpful. If some power of attraction was at work it wasn't very strong; it had to be the slowest burn in history."

At the far end of the table, Linda heard Felicity quietly say to Oliver, "I doubt that." Oliver studied his shoes and didn't reply.

Chloe put her hand on Lucifer's arm. "Lucifer, it took most of the _year_ we worked together for me to decide that I wanted to get closer to you," she said to him. "A year where we sometimes spent ten hours a day together on an investigation. _No one_ could manipulate me or my thoughts that consistently for that long. I don't care whether it was a person or pheromones or alignment of the planets that first brought us together, it was _my_ decision to want to get closer. I mean, God gave us all free will, right?"

Her voice was firm and Linda thought she made a good point. It must have been enough to introduce doubt into Lucifer's mind because he stopped speaking and appeared to be weighing Chloe's argument. If Amenadiel were here, Linda suspected Lucifer would be asking his big brother about their Father and free will. Lucifer might never admit it but he put great stock in Amenadiel's opinion. His brother was back in LA, however, so Lucifer had to decide for himself whether he thought Chloe was the master (or mistress?) of her own destiny.

It was clear to Linda that he _hoped_ she was. It was clear that he wanted their relationship to be her choice.

Chloe's hand was still resting on his arm. He put his hand over it. "Chloe-" he began softly.

Her eyes widened and she leaned toward him. Linda found herself leaning forward in her chair as well. She was anxious to hear Lucifer's response.

"Are these the women?"

_What?_

"Are these the women, Ted?"

The question came from unfamiliar voice, originating somewhere above the table. Linda looked up to see a buxom, thirtyish brunette standing there, accompanied by two men. One of the men was tall and dark, the other was shorter and fairer. The woman had her arms crossed angrily over her ample chest.

The men nodded mutely. Both seemed more than a little embarrassed. The taller one, in particular, kept glancing at the brunette nervously. Linda figured he must be Ted.

"Can I help you?" Linda asked the brunette coolly but politely.

The woman glared at her. "My boyfriend just told me that I need to pay for my own drink," she said tersely, "because he doesn't have any money. And the reason he doesn't have any money is because these two women," she pointed at Maze and Felicity, "hustled him out of a hundred bucks at the pool table." She shook her head indignantly. "Ted's a paralegal going to law school at night. He doesn't have a hundred bucks to throw around. They should be ashamed of themselves."

Linda glanced at Maze and Felicity. She had no doubt the statement about the pool table was true. The two women were eyeing each other - Maze with an amused expression and Felicity with a guilty one. Linda _also_ had no doubt that Ted was equally if not more to blame for his loss. He kept glancing toward the door as if hoping for a chance to make a run for it. In her experience, innocent people didn't run.

She sighed. The brunette's timing sucked. The intervention was just starting to yield results, with Lucifer questioning his assumptions about his family. Now these three had to come along and break the momentum. _And_ her martini glass was empty, she noticed. _And_ the brunette's considerable breasts seemed immune to gravity – which was really unfair. All of which made Linda feel no desire whatsoever to help her.

She looked up at the woman. "If Ted couldn't afford to lose a hundred bucks at the pool table, maybe he shouldn't have made the bet," Linda suggested icily. "Or as an alternative, maybe you should live in the twenty-first century and pay for your own drink since your boyfriend is working his way through law school. Women can buy drinks, you know."

The woman, whom Linda had started to call The Brunette in her head, glared at her. "Ted doesn't gamble," she replied, ignoring the notion that she could buy her own drink. "I don't know what tricks these… _sluts_ used to get him to bet, but I want them to give him his money back. Now."

_Sluts_. Linda felt a small, sinking sensation in her stomach. The woman had just unknowingly called a demon from Hell a slut to her face. This was not good.

Felicity blushed, but Maze maintained her small, amused smile. "Excuse me," she said to The Brunette calmly, "but _who_ are you calling sluts?"

The woman crossed her arms back over her chest and took a step closer to Maze. The sinking sensation in Linda's stomach grew stronger. "I believe I was calling you and Blondie here the sluts," she replied. "Has that tight leather you're wearing cut off your hearing, or are you just too stupid to figure it out?"

Now everyone seated at the table sucked in his or her breath. Linda figured The Brunette had killed her chances of getting Ted's money back with the first _slut_ comment; with that last sentence she would be lucky to leave without a black eye. Maze sat quietly for a few seconds, her smile fading as The Brunette's words hovered in the air. Then she slowly began to rise from her seat. "No one calls my friend a slut," she said evenly, "except me."

"Yeah? I think _I_ just did," The Brunette replied, not giving an inch.

_Oh shit_ , Linda thought. _This is about to get ugly_. She looked at Chloe for help – the woman was a cop after all – but Chloe appeared almost as annoyed as Maze at the _slut_ comment. Linda redirected her gaze to Lucifer hoping he might step in to curb Maze's fighting instincts, but he was grinning happily. Clearly, he was enjoying this.

Maze stepped closer to The Brunette and cracked the knuckles of one hand as she formed a fist. "You've got ten seconds to take it back," she said. "Otherwise, I hope those breast implants of yours are insured."

The Brunette glanced down at her chest. "They're not implants."

"Yeah, right – save it for the boyfriend. So, are you going to take back the _slut_ comment?"

The Brunette stared stubbornly at Maze and said nothing. Ted and his friend quietly edged a couple of steps farther away from the table, their eyes still on the door. Lucifer studied The Brunette's chest thoughtfully.

"Right then," Maze said. And without further discussion, she lunged toward The Brunette, pulling her arm back and then swinging it forward in a very respectable right cross.

Only to have the punch blocked by Oliver Queen.

Linda jumped in her chair, startled. She'd been so focused on Maze and The Brunette that she hadn't seen Oliver move. He was pretty damn stealthy for a big guy, she thought. Not to mention strong; Maze packed a hell of a punch.

Oliver stood between Maze and The Brunette and shook his head. "No fighting tonight. Not here, not in my city."

The two women shuffled their feet and continued to eye each other angrily from around Oliver's torso, looking for opportunities to strike. When it became clear that he intended to remain stationed between them, they eventually stood still and let their arms fall to their sides.  The Brunette turned to study Oliver and Linda could see the precise moment she recognized him as Star City's Mayor.   Her angry expression dissolved and her look became crafty, almost predatory.  It was as if she were gazing at the last chocolate cupcake in a room full of premenstrual women.

"Mayor Queen?" she asked, her eyes traveling from Oliver's trim waist to his broad shoulders, and finally to his very blue eyes.

Oliver nodded.

She ran her fingers through her hair.  "I'm…sorry for the disturbance.  Normally I would never do anything like this, but sometimes you have to stand up for what's right, you know?"  She sounded sincere -- almost contrite -- a complete change from a minute ago.

Maze snorted.

"And what exactly is right in this case?" Oliver asked calmly, ignoring Maze.

The Brunette stepped closer to him and leaned forward to ensure he had an unimpeded view of her chest. Linda heard Lucifer quietly murmur to Chloe, "Oh…those are _definitely_ implants," and Chloe murmur her assent.

"These two women are hustling innocent people out of their money," The Brunette declared, pointing at Maze and Felicity. "The Blonde is a pool shark. She took a hundred dollars off my boy--off my friend, Ted, here.  I just came over to help him get it back." She put a hand on Oliver's arm. "Star City should be the kind of place where you don't have to worry about being hustled when you go out for a drink. Don't you agree, Mayor Queen?" Her voice was smooth as honey.

Oliver regarded her thoughtfully, careful to keep his eyes on her face and not allow them to drop any lower. He turned to look at Felicity in such a way that The Brunette's hand fell naturally off his arm. It was the practiced move of a man who had been hit on countless times. Linda almost smiled.

"Felicity?" Oliver asked.

She looked him in the eye and shrugged. "I did take a hundred bucks off both of them in pool," she said matter-of-factly. "But _they_ first proposed the bet, not me."

"We proposed a bet for twenty bucks," Ted interjected, "not a hundred." He pointed at Maze, " _She_ talked us into raising the amount. She was very …persuasive." The Brunette shot her boyfriend an annoyed look and he immediately shut up. Linda was surprised he had dared to speak at all.

Oliver sighed and glanced between Felicity and The Brunette, a deep furrow forming in his brow. He was in a tough spot, Linda thought. As Mayor, he had to look out for the interests of his constituents regardless of his personal preferences. As a man who was clearly in love with Felicity, on the other hand, he also had to think about his loyalties to her. Linda's inner-therapist was curious to see how he would handle the situation. Her inner-friend wanted Oliver to tell The Brunette to take a hike.

Maze had no such inner conflict; she was firmly in the _friend_ camp. "Oh, c'mon, Oliver," she said forcefully, "are you going to stick by your woman, or are you going to pander to that…that…" she gestured at The Brunette, "liar. Hell, even her breasts are fake."

" _Your_ _woman_?" The Brunette repeated, studying Felicity more closely. " _She's_ your girlfriend?"she asked Oliver. When he didn't confirm or deny it, she wrinkled her nose. "Mr. Mayor, I'm sure you can do better than that."

Oliver's face hardened slightly.

"If it helps, Oliver," Felicity broke in quietly, "Maze and I didn't know the guys were students. Ted and his friend told us they were lawyers about to be made partners in their firm. We figured they could afford a hundred bucks. And," she added, "if we lost the bet, they wanted us to spend the evening with them. They said they could show us a great time and would 'ruin us for other men.'  If it's that much of a hardship, I'm happy to give the money back."

When Felicity reached the part about _ruin us for other men_ , Oliver's face hardened further and he whipped around to stare at Ted and his pal. It was not a friendly stare and Linda felt a small shiver run down her spine. She realized that Oliver Queen was not a man to be trifled with, at least not when it came to Felicity. The Brunette must have seen the same thing because she made no attempt to defend Ted and even stopped her efforts to flirt with Oliver. 

"Let's go, Ted," she said curtly. "We're done here. Maybe we're done, period - I don't know. We'll talk at my place."

"But…"

"I don't like being made a fool of. Let's _go_." She took his arm and began to steer him away from the table. Linda thought she saw Ted cringe, but he made no effort to separate from her. His friend followed at a respectful distance _._

Maze watched them go, then reached up and slapped Oliver on the shoulder. "Nice intimidation move, Boyfriend. Glad to see you sticking by your woman." Linda noted that Maze had dropped the _Asshole_ and was just using _Boyfriend._

Oliver regarded Maze thoughtfully. "Actually," he said seriously, "I'm glad to see _you_ sticking by her. It's good to know that Felicity has you for a friend. I won't have to worry about her when she goes out with you." He made no effort to correct her reference to Felicity as _your woman_.

Maze smiled. "No," she agreed, "You never will have to worry." She hesitated, then added, "Nice block, by the way. Not many people are fast enough to block my punch. Do you moonlight in MMA?"

Oliver laughed. "Not exactly. Just spend a little time at the gym." Linda noticed Felicity raise her eyebrows at him and grin. Evidently there was more to the story. "I think," Oliver continued, glancing warmly at the young blonde, "that Felicity and I should go now. We have some things to talk about."

"We do?" Felicity asked.

He nodded. "We do." He walked over to her chair and gently pulled her up by the hand. And then suddenly, as if he couldn't help himself, he leaned down and kissed her. Not a short peck on the lips, but a good, 30-second, open-mouthed kiss. When it was over, Felicity clung to him, her face flushed and happy and her glasses slightly askew. Oliver looked around the table, smiled, and gave a short wave.  Then he started leading Felicity toward the exit.

As they walked away, Linda heard Felicity ask breathlessly, "What was that for?" and Oliver respond, "I think _I_ should always be the one to ruin you for other men…starting tonight." Felicity said something back that Linda didn't quite catch, and the couple disappeared among the throng of Friday night drinkers.  Maze looked after them and beamed.

_Well_ , Linda thought, _I guess_ _the intervention is a success as far as Oliver Queen is concerned_. Unfortunately, the meeting had been intended for Lucifer, not Oliver. Thanks to the Brunette, they'd never had the chance to finish. She looked over at the former Lord of Hell, wondering what he was thinking. He had his head close to Chloe's ear and was talking quietly, with Chloe nodding every few seconds. Linda trusted the fact that he wasn't chasing after Felicity for his new identity was a good sign.

She cleared her throat. "What about you, Lucifer?" she asked nervously. "After tonight - do you still want to leave LA and start over?"

He stared at her for a long moment. It was one of his serious stares – no sarcasm or silliness. "No," he said, "I think I'm going to head home. Like Oliver and Felicity, Chloe and I have some things to talk about, too." He glanced around the table and then broke out into his more typical, wicked grin. "Besides, I'm never going to find entertainment like this with anyone else. Best night I've had in a long time. Thank you all very much - especially you, Maze." The demon tilted her head in acknowledgement.

"Chloe?" Linda asked, her tone adding an unspoken _are you alright_?

Chloe nodded and smiled shyly. "I'm good," she replied, and Linda could see that she meant it. "If you don't mind," she added to the table in general, "Lucifer and I are going to leave now, too. He's got his car and we're going to take our time and drive back to LA, rather than fly." She patted his arm. "It will give us a chance to discuss free will." And without waiting for assent, she rose and took Lucifer's hand. He glanced at Linda for a moment and smiled another genuine smile, his eyes full of hope. Then the two of them left.

The table was silent for a moment. Linda suddenly felt tired – the good kind of tired. It was the tired she always felt after she'd toiled hard and really accomplished something. Lucifer and Oliver might not have everything resolved, but after tonight they were on the right path.

She looked at Maze and Ella. "Well, ladies," she said with a smile, "I think our work here is done. Girl's Night Out has done the trick." Then she raised her hand and fist-bumped them both in turn.

"Does this mean you ladies are leaving too?" Constantine asked plaintively.

Linda turned to him, surprised. The truth was she had forgotten Constantine was there. Like her, he appeared tired, although in his case she didn't think it was the good kind of tired. She suspected this was hardly the evening he had bargained for when he'd asked Oliver Queen out for a drink. He'd been subjected to a demon, the former Lord of Hell, and a brunette who might have been scarier than the other two put together.

She still thought him weird, but she also thought he deserved a better ending to his evening.

Linda shook her head. "No," she said firmly to Constantine. "We're not leaving. It just means you're buying. Welcome to Girl's Night Out."

Constantine grinned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all so much for reading and commenting. So much appreciated. I thought about keeping this one going, but I'd like to wrap up all my open stories this summer and start something new.
> 
> Happy reading.


	7. Epilogue:  Bridesmaid Mathematics

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes -- this story was finished. However, it continues to get comments (particularly from another website) which prompted one more chapter.  
> It might seem a little Arrow-heavy for Lucifans, but don't be put off by the new Arrow names. Other than John Diggle, they have no part in the story.  
> This was written and edited pretty quickly, so apologies if you find errors. And, yes, it's silly. But then, so is the whole story, really.

"I can't believe you asked him," Felicity Smoak said to Oliver Queen.

Oliver frowned. It was 6:30 in the morning and the two of them were sitting in the kitchen of the apartment they had recently started sharing – which was, coincidentally, the same apartment they had shared more than a year ago, before lies and stubbornness had separated them. They were both blearily eyeing the coffeemaker, which seemed in no particular hurry to make coffee. Oliver was in sweatpants and nothing else, while Felicity wore a bathrobe, tousled morning hair, and a bit of a scowl.

"I thought you liked Quentin Lance," he said in confusion.

She stared at him. "Of course I like Mr. Lance," she replied. "That's not the point."

She didn't elaborate, making Oliver wonder what the point really was, and what he could say to remove her scowl.

Whatever was making her unhappy, he wanted to fix it…badly. Things had been good lately between Felicity and himself – really good; so good, in fact, that they were planning their wedding. There were still days when he could hardly believe his luck – hardly believe that things had turned around so dramatically. A few months ago they'd both been in mediocre relationships with other people. Now they were living together, soon to be married. Oliver had never been a huge fan of therapy, but he had to give Linda Martin her due. The L.A. therapist had helped him stop dithering and admit to both himself and Felicity how badly he wanted her in his life. A couple of hours of counseling - in a Star City bar, no less – had worked wonders. Looking at Felicity's upset face now, he wondered whether it might make sense to give Dr. Linda a call. He suspected she could help.

But fortunately, Felicity decided to start talking. Perhaps the issue would become clear without Linda's guidance. "You already asked all the guys on Team Arrow to be ushers at our wedding," she said.

Oliver nodded. Her tone suggested that she had no problem with that. "Yes," he agreed cautiously.

"So you had John as best man," Felicity continued, referring to their oldest and dearest friend, "and then Curtis and Rene."

Oliver nodded again. So far they were on the same page.

"And I had Lyla, your sister, and Dinah from Team Arrow as bridesmaids," she went on, looking at him expectantly.

Oliver resisted the urge to nod a third time. He noticed that an edge had crept into her voice on that last sentence, and figured they were getting closer to whatever was bothering her. He didn't want to give the impression that he understood when he still didn't have a clue.

And so he waited.

Felicity sighed with exaggerated patience. "Don't you see? We had three ushers and three bridesmaids. It was perfect." She paused, and then tapped her finger on the kitchen table for emphasis. "But you had to go and ask Mr. Lance to be an usher, too. So now we have four ushers and three bridesmaids. And I don't know who I can ask to be the fourth bridesmaid. I don't have a ton of female friends in Star City. Being the technical support on Team Arrow keeps me pretty busy."

Oliver raised his eyebrows. _That_ was the problem? That one of his ushers was going to have to _ush_ – or whatever the appropriate verb was – solo at their wedding? He exhaled in relief. He'd been afraid it was something really serious.

"Felicity," he said gently, "I'm sure Quentin won't mind if he's not paired up with someone at the wedding. It'll be fine."

She gave him a disgusted look. "For someone who comes from a wealthy society family, Oliver, you're not very up-to-speed on weddings. One of the first rules is The Principle of Bridesmaid Mathematics; the number of bridesmaids has to equal the number of ushers. It's just the way it is."

He started to laugh and then realized she was deadly serious. "The Principle of Bridesmaid Mathematics, Felicity? You just made that one up."

She shook her head. "If you don't believe me," she said, "then talk to Thea. I'm sure your sister will tell you exactly the same thing."

She seemed confident and Oliver suspected she was right about his sister's support, however silly the notion of Bridesmaid Mathematics sounded. Still, he was a little surprised at Felicity's vehemence. She had never been a woman who was particularly worried about convention.

"I'm sorry, Felicity," he said truthfully. "I didn't think about what it would mean when I asked Quentin to be an usher. To be honest, I didn't realize that you wanted to do everything by the book at our wedding. You originally suggested eloping."

She nodded. "For exactly this reason…weddings get complicated. And because you're the mayor of Star City, our wedding is going to make the news, including the list of attendants. So unless we fix it, everyone's going to know that I didn't have enough girlfriends to satisfy the Principle of Bridesmaid Math."

Oliver frowned thoughtfully. "Well, if I don't include Quentin," he said, "folks are going to think there's trouble in the mayor's office. Quentin _is_ my deputy mayor, after all, and he's a long-time friend of the family. If he's not in the wedding party, the press is going to speculate that we're not getting along."

Felicity sighed but didn't disagree.

"What about Iris as a bridesmaid?" Oliver proposed, referring to their friend in Central City. Iris happened to be dating The Flash.

Felicity shook her head. "It would be awkward. Then the rest of Team Flash would feel left out."

That was probably true. Oliver thought some more.

"You could ask your mother," he suggested.

Felicity stared at him for a long moment. He heard a loud hiss of steam as the coffeemaker at last decided to produce coffee.

"I'm going to pretend I didn't hear you say that," she said quietly.

She had a point. Oliver searched his brain for other ideas and came up blank. He glanced at the clock; it was almost 7:00. "I need to get showered and into the office," he said. "Why don't we both think about it today? Between the two of us I'm sure we can come up something."

Felicity nodded unhappily. "Okay."

* * *

Oliver had meant it in the morning, when he'd said he would think about wedding options during the day. Once he got to work, however, the duties of being mayor quickly assumed his attention and the Principle of Bridesmaid Mathematics fell to the wayside. It was only in the evening when he was headed home that he remembered he was supposed to come up with solutions for the bridesmaid-usher mismatch. He brainstormed belatedly in the elevator as it moved toward the top floor of their apartment building, but didn't come up with anything useful.

He entered their apartment with no small amount of trepidation. The foyer was dark and the place seemed subdued.

"Felicity?" he called, as he walked in.

"In the kitchen," her voice called back.

Well, she _sounded_ positive. He wondered how long that would last, however, once he confessed that he'd made no progress on the wedding plan. He found her seated at the kitchen table with her laptop, phone and a cup of coffee. His first impression was that she hadn't moved since the morning; but then he noticed that she was dressed in yoga pants and an oversized tee shirt, and her hair was pulled back into a neat ponytail. Clearly, she had at least made it to the shower and the closet after he'd left.

She greeted him with smile. "Good day at work?" she asked.

She seemed cheerful enough. "Um..yes?" he replied carefully. "You?"

"Yes. I had a very good day," she confirmed.

Well, that was encouraging – sort of. He felt a ping of optimism as he considered whether her good mood might be the result of solving her bridesmaid problem during the day. _On the other hand_ , he thought, _she could be happy because she thinks I'm about to tell her that_ I've _solved it._ If _that_ was the case, then she was going to be disappointed. He decided it was best to find out sooner rather than later. After all, he'd promised himself that he wouldn't be the source of any more lies in their relationship.

He took a deep breath. "Felicity," he began, "I know I said I'd think about the wedding today, but I got really tied up with mayor-stuff and-"

She cut him off with a wave of her hand. "Don't worry about it, Oliver," she said.

He raised his eyebrows. "Really?"

"Yup. I'm good."

She sounded like she meant it. He smiled. "You decided that violating the Principle of Bridesmaid Math wasn't that big a deal?" he asked.

She shook her head.

He thought some more. "You asked Iris, after all," he guessed.

She shook her head again.

He could feel his smile fading. "Your mother?"

"Hell, no."

"Then how…?"

She beamed. "I called L.A. and asked Maze to be a bridesmaid - and she said _yes_."

Maze. Short for Mazikeen. Felicity's pool-playing, beer- drinking buddy who never met a fist-fight she didn't like. Oliver had been introduced to her on the same night that he'd met Linda Martin. Maze was fiercely protective of Felicity, which would make her okay in Oliver's book, except for the fact that she was…

"A demon? You asked a _demon_ to be your bridesmaid?"

Felicity nodded brightly. "Yup. Not just any bridesmaid, either, but my maid of honor. She seems really happy about it, too. I can't believe I didn't think of it earlier."

Oliver stared at her.

"I was a little worried the other L.A. girls might feel left out," Felicity continued, "but I talked with Linda and she assured me it's fine. Of course, I'll invite Linda, Ella and Chloe as guests to the wedding. It will be great to see them."

Oliver sank into the chair next to Felicity. "I'm not sure it's a good idea to have a demon for a bridesmaid," he said slowly. "It might be bad luck. And what's the minister going to think?"

Felicity sat a little straighter in her seat. When she looked at him, her gaze was steely. "I'm marrying a guy who wears green leather, a mask and shoots arrows at people. I'm thinking that's already a little bit weird. And no one will know she's a demon unless we tell them." Her forehead puckered slightly in worry. "Besides, I thought we agreed to a justice of the peace, Oliver, not a minister. This is supposed to be a civil ceremony."

He sighed. "We did. I was hoping I could get you to change your mind about that."

She shook her head. "Not unless we have a rabbi instead."

"Right. A civil ceremony with a demon as your maid of honor. It's all good."

She smiled again. "I knew you'd see it that way."

* * *

Maze bounded into Linda Martin's office, nearly knocking over the patient that was on his way out. The poor fellow stumbled, but thankfully recovered his footing and gave Maze a curious look before exiting quickly down the hallway. Linda figured that was progress. In the past, Maze had thought nothing of walking into the _middle_ of a session and interrupting it. This time she'd at least waited until the patient had finished.

Linda remained in her chair. Maze's visits usually meant that a little doctor-demon therapy was about to occur, so there really was no point in getting up. All in all, Maze was doing remarkably well adjusting to life with humans, especially given that she'd spent several millennia torturing condemned souls. Still, there were often subtleties in convention and communication that she needed help with.

Sure enough, the beautiful, dark-haired demon wasted no time plopping onto Linda's patient couch. "Hey, Doc," she said, putting her feet up on the coffee table, "got a minute?"

Linda glanced at the clock. "I have fifteen until my next patient."

"Great." Maze leaned back and crossed her slender legs, her short leather skirt creeping up her thighs as she did so. "It's about Felicity's wedding."

"Ah…" Linda smiled. "Felicity told me she asked you to be her maid of honor. That's a real compliment, Maze. Congratulations."

"Thanks…I think," Maze replied.

"You think? You're not sure?"

"Well, I agreed to do it, mainly because it was Felicity who was asking - and you know she's my homey. But the truth is I've never been to a human wedding – or really _any_ wedding for that matter. What exactly is a maid of honor supposed to do?"

She seemed genuinely worried. Linda hastened to reassure her. "You don't have to do a whole lot, Maze. Mostly, you just have to be there for Felicity if she needs you."

"That's it? How?"

It had been a while since Linda had been a bridesmaid. She rooted around in her memory. "Well…you usually take the bride out and party with her before her wedding," she offered. "It's supposed to be her last fling as a single woman, but it's mostly about calming her jitters."

Maze grinned. "That one's easy. We can drink and hustle pool again. We had a lot of fun with that the last time I was in Star City."

Linda nodded. "That'll work." She thought a little more. "And then you have to help her on the day of her wedding. You know – with things like her dress, hair or makeup."

Maze frowned. "I don't have a lot of experience with makeup," she said. "This," she gestured at her face, "is all natural." She paused and added more cheerfully, "But I'm sure I can figure it out, especially if you give me some tips."

Linda had a vision of Felicity with dark purple lips and heavy green eyeliner, and vowed to give Maze a cosmetics tutorial prior to the wedding.

"And finally," Linda said, "you walk down the aisle with the bride at the beginning of the ceremony and stand near her as she gets married."

Maze's face fell. "The aisle?" she asked. "Of a _church_?"

Hmmm. Good point. Linda had never seen Maze in a church. She wondered if putting a demon in a house of worship was like putting antimatter near matter. Would there be a huge explosion and then oblivion?

Then she remembered that Felicity wasn't getting married in a church.

"I don't think you have to worry about that," she said. "Felicity mentioned that it was going to be a civil ceremony. So the wedding is just going to be in a hall in Star City."

Maze looked relieved. "That's good to hear. I mean, it might have been all right in a church, but why tempt fate?" She took her feet off the table and sat forward with a grin. "So basically, what you're saying, Doc, is that I really don't have to do anything until a few days before the wedding. Then I go to Star City and party with Felicity, and then stand next to her when she gets married." She nodded confidently. "I can handle that. This bridesmaid thing sounds like a piece of cake."

Linda smiled. "There is _one_ other thing that you need to do."

Maze's grin faded a little. "Which is?"

"You'll need to get fitted for your bridesmaid dress. They almost always need a little bit of alteration – and that typically happens a few weeks before the wedding."

Maze's grin disappeared altogether. "Bridesmaid dress? You mean I can't wear something like this?" She gestured at her black leather mini skirt and form-fitting black sweater.

Linda shook her head. "Weddings are typically a little dressier."

"Dressier? How much dressier?"

Linda shrugged. "These days, it's kind of hard to say. Sometimes the bridesmaids wear long gowns, and sometimes it's a cocktail length dress. It's usually not a skirt, though."

"And the color?"

Linda cleared her throat. "It could be anything."

"Including black?"

The doctor made a noncommittal gesture. "Sometimes, although it's not the most common." When Maze grimaced, she added, "It's an evening wedding, though, so Felicity might think black is appropriate."

Maze punched the palm of one hand with the fist from her other hand. "Well, then I need to talk to my girl right away," she said. "Because you can be damn sure that I'm not wearing pink."

* * *

The Star City reporter craned her neck as the cars continued to pull up in front of the small downtown banquet hall. Mayor Oliver Queen had done his best to keep both the date and location of his wedding a secret, but the reporter's sources in City Hall had called earlier to tell her that Queen had seemed unusually nervous all morning and had cancelled his afternoon appointments. So she'd done a little sleuthing, made a few educated guesses, and gotten her butt outside the hall. She'd been rewarded for her efforts by seeing the mayor go inside about twenty minutes ago, wearing a tux. He'd been accompanied by four, similarly clad men, so she felt confident that she had indeed found the mayor's wedding and gained the exclusive.

Since then, a series of elegantly dressed people had entered the building, after showing both an invitation and an ID to the officers at the door. The reporter had dressed up with a notion of trying to sneak into the wedding herself, but security seemed tight, so she remained contented to stand outside and snap photos that would later be posted online. It was enough to know that she had beaten out the other reporters. Trying to get in would be pushing her luck.

So far, there had been no sign of the bride. The reporter hoped she would arrive soon, because the sun was starting to set and the light would soon fade. Photo's would be more difficult.

The fact that Oliver Queen was marrying Felicity Smoak, a woman who - while quite beautiful - was hardly a society darling, still came as something of a surprise. Felicity was the former CEO of a technology company, known more for her brains than her listing in the Who's Who of Star City. She really shouldn't have been the type to attract a hottie politician like Oliver Queen, the reporter thought. It made her consider how things might have been different if only she'd been able to meet Queen herself a couple of years ago. She sighed briefly for opportunities lost.

A black limousine pulled up in front of the hall and the reporter snapped to attention. She readied her camera and stood on tiptoe as the limo door opened. Sure enough, Felicity Smoak emerged, wearing a strapless white gown with a sweetheart neckline that suited her perfectly. Her wavy blonde hair was piled on her head in a manner that looked carefree, but was probably the result of diligent styling by her hairdresser. The reporter reluctantly admitted that Felicity looked lovely.

She began taking pictures.

Almost immediately, additional doors to the limo opened and four women stepped out. The reporter was surprised to see that they were wearing black cocktail-length dresses. The dresses were attractive, but hardly traditional. She watched as a slender bridesmaid with long, dark hair fussed over Felicity's gown, straightening the skirt and checking the dozens of pearl buttons up the back. _That must be the maid of_ _honor_ , she thought. Then she squinted. She couldn't be sure with the distance and the waning light, but she could have sworn that the maid of honor's dress was made of leather.

_Okay_ , she thought, _that's kind of weird_. Then she shrugged. _At least there are four bridesmaids,_ she said to herself _. Felicity obviously knows about the Principle of Bridesmaid Mathematics._

She continued taking pictures until the five women disappeared into the building.

* * *

Oliver stood at the front of the hall, trying to calm his nerves. He'd wanted this day for so long, he could hardly believe it was happening. He was happy and anxious at the same time. Not being blessed with the best of luck and having accumulated a few enemies over the years, he couldn't help fearing that something might yet go wrong. Two years ago, after all, Felicity had been shot when an enemy had opened fire on Oliver's limo. Only when the ring was on her finger and the two of them were safely home, did he think he would truly be able to relax. He stared at the back of the room, wondering why it was taking her so long to walk in.

"Calm down, Oliver."

The words came from John Diggle, his best friend as well as his best man.

"She's late, John."

Diggle fumbled in his tux pocket and pulled out his phone. "No she's not. The GPS shows the limo just pulled up. She's here."

"You're tracking her phone?"

Diggle shrugged. "Actually, she and I agreed to put a tracer in her hair clip. We knew you'd be paranoid, and we figured it was the best option, since she can't carry her phone down the aisle."

Oliver nodded. "Thank you, John."

He should have felt more relief. Felicity was here; she only had to make it another fifty yards and she would be standing at his side. He reminded himself that Diggle had spent weeks planning security for the wedding. He'd studied the venue, devised the limo routes, and had guards standing at the door to check photo IDs. He'd even debated using a metal detector before eventually deciding against it.

Unfortunately, Oliver knew there was one thing Diggle hadn't planned for, although the lack of planning was not at all Diggle's fault. Both Oliver and Felicity had agreed not to tell _anyone_ that her maid of honor was a demon. They figured there would be too much explaining to do, particularly if Felicity's mother got wind of it. Originally, Oliver hadn't considered this a huge problem because he'd invited John Constantine to his wedding, and Constantine knew how to manage demons. But then Constantine had had to cancel at the last minute. So now they had one demon and no demon-fighters at their wedding.

At least, Oliver thought, they hadn't invited Lucifer Morningstar.

The door to the hallway opened, and he watched in relief as Felicity's bridesmaids - Lyla, Thea and Dinah – began heading down the aisle, with Felicity and Maze following. Since Felicity's father had long been absent from her life, she'd decided to walk the aisle on Maze's arm. He could see that Maze was touched by that. Her dark eyes were large and almost looked as though they held tears. Felicity herself appeared surprisingly calm. Her step was steady, and when she caught Oliver's eye, she gave him a radiant smile. He smiled back.

Her bridesmaids had reached the front of the hall and Felicity had about fifteen yards to go when things started to go sideways. Oliver could hear what sounded like a scuffle at the back of the hall, and before he could react, a man in a dark suit burst in and ran down the aisle toward Felicity. Oliver saw a flash of light from the man's hand and knew in an instant that he was carrying a knife.

Oliver started toward Felicity, but the man got there first and grabbed her from behind, tugging her away from Maze and almost causing her to fall. He held one arm around Felicity's waist, and with the other, placed his knife against her throat.

"Don't come any closer," the man threatened.

Oliver stopped a few feet away and stared at him, his breathing ragged. He could feel John Diggle at his side, and knew John was assessing the situation and looking for openings. It didn't look good.

The man sneered at him. "Mayor Queen," he growled. "I've sent a dozen petitions to your office and you've never answered one of them. I guess you were too busy. Well, I've got some things I want to say to you and I figure you'll be willing to listen now." He waved the knife around for a few seconds before returning it to Felicity's throat. Oliver wondered if the guy was on some kind of drug; his eyes looked a little wild.

Felicity stood motionless and kept her eyes on Oliver.

He tried to slow his breathing. "Of course, I'll listen," he said, hoping his voice sounded calm, "but not while you're holding a knife. Why don't you put it down and-"

BAM!

Maze's elbow struck the side of the man's head. She hit him so hard that his feet flew out from under him and he landed on his back in the middle of the aisle. She followed the elbow strike with a well-placed kick to his hand, causing the knife to fly out in a large arc and land at Diggle's feet. The guy struggled a few times to stand, but Oliver could see that he didn't have a chance. Any time he made it to a sitting or kneeling position, Maze connected again with either her fist or a foot. Eventually the man just lay still; the security detail had to carry him out.

Diggle bent down to pick up the knife. "Wow," he said. "That's one hell of a bridesmaid."

Oliver gave a weak chuckle and hurried over to join Felicity and Maze. Maze was straightening Felicity's dress and saying something quietly in her ear; Felicity was nodding.

"Are you all right," he asked Felicity.

She smiled. "I'm fine, Oliver. We had it covered." Then she gave him a wink, as if to say: _I guess having a demon at our wedding wasn't such bad luck after all._

Oliver had to agree.


	8. Epilogue 2:  Sympathy for the Therapist

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A second epilogue, based on the Maze/Linda storyline in season 3 of "Lucifer."

Linda Martin sat back in her therapist's chair and let out a long, deep sigh. It was after six in the evening and she'd spent a full day seeing patients. She was tired but satisfied – at least professionally. Each patient had needed her help in his or her unique way and she'd been able to do something for all of them. She'd talked to people with mommy-issues, daddy-issues, food-issues and germ-issues. She'd even talked to a man with an issue about _having_ issues. And every one of her patients had left the office with the sense of well-being that comes with making progress. Linda wasn't one to brag, but she knew with certainty that she was a damn good therapist.

So why the hell couldn't she help herself?

Even more to the point, how could she have allowed herself to get into such a mess in the first place? For a smart woman, she'd managed to screw up pretty well.

Her mother used to recite an old saying when Linda was a child: _Shoemaker's children go barefoot and doctor's wives die young._ Linda had thought the saying silly back then, but she had to admit it fit her situation right now. She'd spent years studying the human psyche and helping others make emotionally sound decisions; only to react to a difficult situation involving herself like an oversensitive two-year-old. _Well, I suppose that's why we never stop learning and growing_ , she thought.

There was a knock at her door. A tentative, gentle knock that said, _is anyone here?_

Linda ignored it. It was after six and patient hours were over. The only things she wanted to see now were a hot bubble bath and a cold martini – not necessarily in that order. She held her breath and did her best imitation of an empty office.

Apparently, it wasn't convincing. The knock returned - a little more forcefully this time.

She thought about getting up to lock the door, but figured the sound of the sliding bolt would be a dead giveaway that the therapist was in. Better to stare at the painting that hung behind her couch and wait a few minutes. The painting was abstract and a bit chaotic, full of swirling colors. It seemed to match her mood.

Another knock - and this time the door swung open after it. Linda looked up to see John Constantine standing in the doorway.

John Constantine?

She had last seen the man over a year ago in a bar in Star City. She and the girls had conducted an intervention to stop Lucifer Morningstar from leaving Los Angeles and taking on a new identity. They'd met Constantine by accident; he was a friend of a friend of one of their Girl's Night Out participants, Felicity Smoak. It was an evening Linda wasn't likely to forget. It had been her job to lead the intervention and it had turned out to be a difficult one. It had made herding cats look like a vacation.

Still, she'd managed to achieve a positive outcome. Lucifer had given up his plan to disappear and he and Chloe Decker had departed the bar to return to LA. Felicity Smoak and her boyfriend (now husband) Oliver Queen had also gone off somewhere to talk – or have sex – or maybe both. Linda didn't really know.

And John Constantine had hung around.

* * *

_Constantine took the martini from the waitress and handed it to Linda. She was starting to lose count – which made her a little nervous. Was this four? Five? The room wasn't spinning yet, but she figured she was only a drink or two away from some big time whirling._

" _I really shouldn't," she said._

_Constantine chuckled. "One more can't hurt. You're not driving tonight, right luv? And I promise to see you safely to wherever you want to go when we're done."_

_Linda wondered just how_ safe _it was to be with John Constantine. After all, both Lucifer and Maze had recognized him as some kind of expert on the supernatural, and he certainly seemed to have an above average knowledge of demons and the underworld. She looked around for help from Maze or Ella but the two girls had wandered off to a pool table and were in the middle of a game. They appeared to be in no hurry to leave._

_Linda sighed. "Fine, but this is the last one."_

_Constantine smiled and retrieved his pint of beer from the waitress. "The night is young," he said. "Why don't we just see how things go? It's been a while since I've had the chance to talk with an attractive bird like you. And besides, I think you owe it to yourself to have a good time. You strike me as a woman who takes care of everyone except herself."_

_Linda felt her eyes begin to fill with tears. It was a perceptive – and kind - thing to say. Lucifer and the girls – they all seemed to rely on her to provide insight into their problems._

_Then she remembered that Constantine had originally struck her as a degenerate and her tears dried up._

" _Just one more," she repeated firmly._

_Constantine shrugged and didn't acknowledge the limit. "I'm curious," he said conversationally, "how you came to be therapist to the Devil. That can hardly be something you trained for in therapist school."_

Therapist school. _Linda rolled her eyes_. _"First of all, I went to_ medical school _and then specialized in psychiatry. There's no such thing as_ therapist school _. And second, I didn't know he was the Devil when I started therapy with him. I met Lucifer when he and Chloe were investigating a murder and I happened to be the therapist for the victim. When the case was over, he asked to be my client." She gave a weak laugh. "I just thought he had an unusual name and used a lot of metaphors."_

" _But you found out at some point that he's the Devil."_

 _She swirled her martini and watched the olive skitter around the walls of the glass. "Yes, I found out who he really is a little over a year after we'd started sessions. I got angry with him and told him that to make any sort of progress, he had to be honest with himself and with me – completely honest. And that's when he showed me his face; his_ devil-face _, as he likes to call it."_

_Constantine straightened up in his seat. "His real face? Well, bloody hell. You must have been gobsmacked."_

_Linda laughed. It felt good. "That's putting it mildly. Catatonic might be a better word. Especially since Lucifer and I, we'd…we'd…" She stopped. She had no business revealing_ that _detail of her relationship with Lucifer to a stranger – particularly a dubious one like Constantine. The martinis were making her careless._

_But it was too late. Constantine sensed a story. He leaned forward and covered her hand with his. "Especially since you'd what, luv?" he repeated. "C'mon, you can't leave me hanging here. Especially since you and Lucifer had what?"_

_His hand was cool from holding the beer and it felt wonderfully masculine. Linda tried to ignore that fact. "It's not important," she said._

_Constantine shook his head. "Oh, Linda, I can see by your eyes that it's very important. I know we've just met, but you can trust me – especially when it comes to devils and demons. They're kind of my specialty – my line of work, you might say."_

_Linda took a deep swallow of her martini. At this point, what did it really matter? Constantine certainly didn't strike her as someone who would be shocked or judgmental. "Especially since Lucifer and I had slept together," she finished lamely._

_Constantine choked and bumped his beer with his arm, sending the glass skidding across the table. He looked like he was searching for something stronger to say than_ bloody hell _and was coming up empty. "You slept with Lucifer?" he finally stated._

_She nodded. "Multiple times. But in all fairness, I didn't know he was the Devil when I did it. And I stopped it months before I ever found out."_

" _Isn't there some bleedin' rule about doctors sleeping with their patients?"_

 _She sighed. "Of course, there is. And what I did is unethical. But you have to understand Lucifer's…," she searched for words, "…sexual magnetism. I don't know how to describe it. It's like the – what are they called? – the sirens in Homer's_ Odyssey _? Where they sing the mystical song and you're drawn to them. You just can't resist."_

 _Constantine nodded. "Kind of like_ my _sexual magnetism," he said cheekily._

_She turned to study him. He was slender and wiry, with a shock of blond hair that didn't conform to any conventional hairstyle. His face was handsome but weathered, and his eyes were tired. She suspected he was younger than her, yet he looked older._

" _You're certainly attractive, John," she replied honestly, "but - frankly - you're not in his league. I've never met a man who is."_

 _Constantine laughed and didn't appear insulted. He raised his hand for the waitress. "Another beer, luv," he said, when she came over. Then he put his hand back over Linda's. "I've met a few of the sirens, my dear. They_ can _be resisted, especially with the right spells."_

Spells? _He was talking about performing magic? Why couldn't she meet a nice, normal,_ human _guy anymore - an investment banker, maybe, or a dentist? She should run right now, she thought. She should pick up her purse and get away from more craziness. But she didn't. It was probably the effect of the martinis. Her body felt relaxed – almost liquid – and she could sense her judgment slipping away. In some ways, she liked the feeling. She spent so much time trying to analyze motives and behaviors with a dispassionate therapist's mindset. It was nice to let go for once._

" _So," Constantine continued, his tone signaling a change in subject, "if you're Lucifer's therapist, then you probably have a good idea of his weaknesses – at least psychologically."_

_She frowned. "I'm aware of some of the issues that are on his mind. We don't think of them as weaknesses."_

_Constantine shrugged. "Tomato, tomahto. I don't suppose you'd mind sharing some of those…_ issues _? You know, just between friends?"_

Huh? _It was like a dash of cold water over her head. Her judgment came rushing back in a heartbeat and she stiffened in her seat. "I can't talk about a patient, John," she said sharply. "What happens in therapy is confidential."_

_He smiled. "I'm not asking for details, luv. Just one sort of general vulnerability that could be exploited should the world ever be in peril and the Devil needs to be defeated."_

_She shook her head. "No way. My ethics may have slipped when I slept with Lucifer but they're not that far gone that I'd violate doctor-patient confidentiality – no matter how many martinis I've had."_

_Constantine gave an exasperated sigh. "But, Linda, he's hardly an ordinary patient, is he? He's the Devil. What happens if we end up in the ultimate battle of Good versus Evil? Don't you want Good to have the edge?"_

_She shook her head again. "Nope. Sorry, John – we're not going there. Besides, I don't believe Lucifer is evil."_

_Constantine frowned. "I didn't peg you for being naïve, Linda. I thought you were a smart woman."_

_She stared stubbornly at her martini and didn't rise to the bait._

_He put his hand back over hers. "C'mon - just one, tiny little detail? I mean, we're talking about the war for humanity's souls here, Doc."_

" _I'll give you my phone number. If we're ever in the ultimate battle of Good versus Evil you can give me a call. Then I'll talk."_

_Constantine stared at her for a long moment. Then he shrugged. "Well, it was a good try. And at least I got your number out of it."_

* * *

"John Constantine," Linda said, staring at the figure in her office doorway. "What the hell are you doing here?"

He grinned. "Now, is that any kind of a greeting for an old friend, luv?"

"Friends? Is that what we are? I gave you my number over a year ago and never once heard from you."

He shrugged. "Well, the world managed to avoid the ultimate battle of Good versus Evil for the past year. Otherwise, I assure you I would have called."

She sat back in her chair, allowing fatigue to wash over her. "So, in other words, you're just like everyone else. You only want my friendship when you can get something out of it."

His grin disappeared. "Ouch, luv. That doesn't sound like you. It's an awfully cynical thing to say - more like something _I_ would say, truth be told."

She took off her glasses and rubbed her eyes. "Ahh…you're right, John. Don't mind me. It's been a tough couple of months and I'm in a bit of a funk. It'll pass."

He gave her a sympathetic glance, then walked from the doorway to her couch and sat down. He looked exactly the same as he'd looked in Star City a year ago. He was wearing his rumpled trench coat, a fitted white shirt, and dress slacks. She doubted the coat been cleaned since then. He fished around in one of its inner pockets and pulled out a pack of cigarettes.

She shook her head. "No smoking in my office, John."

"But it's after patient hours-"

"No smoking."

He sighed and returned the cigarettes to his coat pocket. "Fine. So do you want to tell me what has your knickers in such a bleedin' tight knot? I recall you being a lot more fun than this."

His tone was gentler than his words and she sensed that he genuinely cared. It would be nice to talk to _someone_ , she thought, and in a weird way, he was the perfect person. As unlikely as it sounded, they shared a bond; two humans caught up in the world of celestials and demons. John knew the parties involved – it would be easy to tell him what was going on without a lot of explanation or lies. And he wasn't judgmental. Besides, chances were he would disappear for another year after they'd talked, so she wouldn't be reminded of anything that was said between them, anyway.

She took a deep breath. "Maze and I have had a serious disagreement. You might almost call it a fight."

His eyebrows went up. "You and Mazikeen? The demon?"

She nodded.

"But I thought you two were thick as thieves."

She sighed. "I thought so, too. But something happened that really put our friendship to the test." She gave a weak laugh. "And I guess it failed."

He picked up one of the cushions from her sofa and squished it between his hands. He looked tired, she thought, more tired than her. "I think we should continue this discussion over a drink," he finally said.

She shook her head. "Last time I had drinks with you I had a hangover that lasted for two days."

He grinned. "We'll observe a strict two drink limit this time. Well, maybe three." When she didn't say anything, he continued, "Look, Linda, you're having a fight with a demon – a rather powerful demon. That kind of discussion requires a martini – or a beer, as the case may be. Who knows - maybe I can help. Demons are kind of my thing, after all." He sounded serious.

She gave him a long look. _Well, you had planned on going home and having a martini anyway. What's wrong with having one with company?_

"Okay," she said, "but two's my limit. I have to work tomorrow."

His grin grew wider. "Let's go."

* * *

Linda had expected to be the one to select the bar. They were in Los Angeles, after all - her turf. But instead, Constantine took her to a place he knew in southern LA. It was a dive, but in a good sort of a way. The décor was essentially nonexistent; just a bar surrounded by wooden tables in a dimly-lit room. There were no plants, no cute little center-pieces on the tables, and no botoxed beauties parading around just to be seen. People minded their own business and it was quiet enough to carry on a conversation without shouting. Judging by the nod the bartender gave Constantine, John had definitely been here before.

It turned out the place also made a pretty damn good vodka martini. Linda liked hers dirty, and the bartender got the proportions of vodka, vermouth and olive brine just right. Constantine allowed her to take a few appreciative sips in silence. Then he set aside his beer and turned to her.

"So tell me, luv," he said, "what's got you and Maze on the outs?"

Linda twirled the toothpick holding the olives in her drink. "Well, as stupid as it sounds," she replied, "we fought about a guy."

Constantine's brow furrowed. "The two of you fought over a bloke?" he repeated. "You mean, like actually _fought_?"

"Not physically. Although, knowing Maze, it probably got close to physical. I'm sure she was thinking about it."

"Must be one hell of a bloke to have a demon this interested. Anyone I know?"

Linda shook her head. "It's just a guy I started dating a few months ago. I liked him a lot and he liked me and it got pretty serious. It turns out, though, that Maze went out with him for about five minutes over a year ago. Their relationship never went anywhere, but she still didn't like the idea of me being with him."

Constantine frowned. "Did she give you reason?"

Linda shrugged. "Not really. She just seemed to feel that our friendship wouldn't be the same if I dated him."

"So what did you do?"

She sighed. "Well, at first I told Maze I wouldn't date him, but I kept seeing him in secret. Eventually she found out, though, and when she did, she was furious. So then I stopped seeing him for real. I told Maze that I'd given him up, and that I did it for the sake of our friendship, but she can't seem to get over it. So she's not speaking to me - and any time she sees me, she looks like she wants to kill me. And I mean really kill me. Nothing I say or do helps the situation."

Constantine reached for his beer and downed half of it. Then he sat back and studied Linda for what felt like a long time.

Finally, he said, "Remind me again what you do for a living?"

She rolled her eyes. "I'm a therapist – you know that."

He nodded. "And from what I've seen, a bloody good one. You managed to get Queen to stop dithering over his little blonde bird – in fact, I believe they're married now."

"They are."

He nodded again "You see? That's a miracle right there. He's been frozen in place over her for years. You finally got him to move. It proves you're a good therapist."

"And your point is, John?"

He drained his glass. "My point is that you need to think about this situation like a therapist. What would you say to a patient if she came to you with your story? _I'm in love with a guy that my friend used to date. She hasn't gone out with him in over a year and she's not in love with him herself, but she still doesn't like the idea of me seeing him."_ He signaled for the waitress by waving his empty beer glass in the air. "What advice would you give her, Doctor?"

Linda gave him an annoyed look, but answered his question. "I'd ask her if her friend had given her any good reasons not to see the guy, and if she thought her friend was being reasonable."

"And if the responses to both those questions were _no?_ "

Linda sighed. "Then I'd ask her to think about her own happiness and which course of action would best enhance it, regardless of what her friend thinks. She can give up the guy or stay with him, but she needs to make the decision based on her own feelings, not her friend's. Then whatever she decides, I'd suggest she tell her friend about it openly and honestly, and give the reasons for her decision. The only person she can manage is herself. She can't be responsible for her friend's reaction, particularly if the friend is being unreasonable."

Constantine sat back in his chair. "Well, there you go. You should take your own advice, Doctor. If seeing this fellow makes you happy, you should do it. You can't be responsible for Maze's reaction."

Linda sighed again. "Easier said than done. It still hurts to disappoint a friend. And, anyway, I think it's too late for me to get back with the guy. Amenadiel has probably moved on by now."

"Amenadiel?"

"The guy I was seeing."

Constantine's brow furrowed. "Amenadiel, as in the _angel_ Amenadiel? Lucifer's brother?"

Linda nodded. "You know him?"

Constantine gave a low whistle. "I've certainly _heard_ of him. It's my job. Blimey, Linda, you lead an interesting life. Do you only allow celestial beings into your knickers or do you ever give it up for ordinary blokes?"

* * *

Linda held the key to her office in her right hand while balancing her purse, a lemon-poppy seed muffin, and a double latte in her left. As she unlocked the door, she attributed not spilling anything to the fact that she'd finally gotten a few nights of good sleep. And she attributed _that_ fact to her talk with Constantine.

He hadn't solved anything or really even told her anything she didn't already know. But hearing it from someone else – especially someone who dabbled in the world of angels and demons - had helped. It brought to mind another one of her mother's sayings: _A trouble shared is a trouble halved_. Just talking about it had brought relief.

She and Constantine had spoken for more than two hours that night in the bar. After discussing Maze, the two of them had gradually shifted the conversation toward themselves. With fewer martinis and a clearer head than she'd had in Star City, Linda had probed into Constantine's background. She'd learned that he lived in London, but that he was on the road far more often than he was at home. And she'd found out that he hadn't been joking a year ago when he'd talked about performing spells. He told her that he came from a long line of magicians and that he'd started practicing magic as a child. It had been clear that his definition of _magic_ wasn't merely card tricks and sleight of hand; it was something darker and more powerful. A few years ago Linda would have laughed at the notion. Now that she'd met the Devil and a demon, however, she was far less inclined to find it fantastic.

They'd talked until they'd run out of things to say. Then Constantine had wished her good luck and bid her a cheery farewell. Linda had gone home and slept. She figured she wouldn't see him again for another year, if ever. And that was okay. Some friendships are like that.

Linda used her elbow to push the door to her office open after unlocking it. It was a little before eight in the morning and her first client wasn't expected until nine. That gave her an hour to eat her muffin and catch up on paperwork.

Then she stopped.

Because her office wasn't empty. John Constantine was sitting in her therapist's chair and he wasn't alone. He had rearranged her furniture to form a circle of seats, with Maze on a chair to his left and the rest of the Girl's Night Out crew on the sofa – even Felicity Smoak, who must have flown down from Star City. Ella, Chloe and Felicity appeared bright-eyed and interested. Maze looked furious.

"Good morning, Doctor," Constantine called out brightly. "Welcome to the intervention."

She dropped her purse and muffin on the floor, but managed to hang onto the latte. She had a feeling she was going to need it.

"Intervention?" she repeated weakly.

Constantine nodded. "I saw how well it worked a year ago with Lucifer so I thought I'd give it a try myself."

"Exactly whose intervention is this?" she asked, although she was pretty sure she knew the answer.

He smiled. "Yours. Or Maze's. Or both. Does it really matter?"

She sighed. She supposed it didn't. She turned to address the demon. "Maze?" Linda asked. "You're on board with this?"

Maze squirmed in her seat and glared.

"Oh, she can't answer you," Constantine continued. "I've got a spell going at the moment that has her stuck in that chair and unable to talk. I figured it would give you a chance to say your piece. After listening to you the other night, I decided you need to get a few things off your chest."

Linda looked around her office and noticed a bowl on her desk with something smoldering in it. She sniffed. The room smelled like lavender.

"Is lavender part of the spell?" she asked.

Constantine frowned and didn't reply.

"I'm pretty sure the lavender is for masking the cigarette smell," Ella chimed in from the sofa. "When we got here, John was smoking up a storm."

Great. Linda glanced at the clock. It was eight-ten. She had three friends, a man who had just performed some kind of mystical spell, and a demon in her office. In fifty minutes her first patient was going to get a huge shock unless she could get the intervention finished and clear everyone out.

As if he'd read her mind, Constantine went on, "I'd suggest you say what you have to say to Maze _now_ , Doc. She's pretty powerful and I don't know how long I can maintain the spell." Maze scowled at him. He turned to Chloe. "You have your gun, Detective, right? Just in case?"

Chloe looked annoyed, but nodded.

"Then go on, Linda," Constantine said. "Just like we talked about the other night - only faster."

Linda bit her lip. She was accustomed to running interventions, not the being the subject of one. She wasn't sure she liked it. Still, what was she going to do? Send everyone away? Felicity had gotten on an airplane for this. She owed it to her friends to try.

She sat on the coffee table and faced Mazikeen.

"Maze," she began. "I know you're angry with me for going out with Amenadiel – maybe more so because I lied to you about it – but I don't understand why my seeing him bothers you so much. You've never shown interest in him romantically. It's not as if I stole him from you."

Behind her on the couch, she heard Felicity whisper to Ella, " _Who's Amenadiel?_ "

Ella whispered back, " _Lucifer's brother. He's a major stud_. _I didn't know Linda was going out with_ _him_."

" _Oh."_

"I don't get a lot of chances to date," Linda continued, watching Maze's eyes closely. "And the opportunities to meet a man who understands the world I live in these days are even fewer." She shook her head. "He made me happy, Maze. I thought, as my friend, that you would want me to be happy."

For a moment, she thought she saw a softening in Maze's eyes. Then they hardened again. The demon wriggled in her chair and opened her mouth, but no words came out. It may have been Linda's imagination, but it appeared to her that Maze was able to move a little more freely than she had when Linda had first walked into the office.

Constantine gazed worriedly at the demon and chanted something frantically under his breath.

Linda hastened to finish. "When I found out how much my seeing Amenadiel bothered you," she declared, "I even gave him up. Just for you – because our friendship means that much to me. But that didn't seem to make you happy either. So now I don't know what to do. I don't feel I should have to give up a man to preserve our friendship, because the two things are not mutually exclusive. I want to be your friend, Maze, but not if I can't be true to myself."

Maze leaned forward in her chair in whispered something. Linda couldn't make out words, but it was obvious that Maze's voice was returning.

Constantine cleared his throat. "I think we're running out of time, girls. Maybe you all want to say something - quickly - in this intervention? While you still have the chance. Felicity?"

Felicity glanced between Maze and Constantine. Maze was stretching her legs and flexing her feet. "All I want to say," Felicity blurted out hurriedly, "is that I know how great a friend you can be, Maze. You've been there for me when I needed you and you even saved my wedding. I can't believe you would walk away from Linda over a guy – I don't think that's really you."

Maze looked at Felicity thoughtfully. Then she turned to Constantine and cracked her knuckles. Constantine started making hurry-up motions with his hands. "Ella?"

Ella's eyes were wide. "What Felicity said," she declared. Then she added, "And you shouldn't think that Linda caring for a guy does anything to diminish her friendship with you, Maze. The human heart has capacity to care for more than one person. Think of-"

"Great," Constantine said, cutting Ella off. "Hallmark would be proud. Chloe?"

Chloe opened her mouth, but before she could say anything, Maze stood up.

"Oh, shit," Constantine said.

Maze held up her hands. "All right," she shouted, "You can stop the intervention! I get it. Linda can care for both Amenadiel _and_ me. She can date him and still be my friend. Just please don't make me listen to this crap anymore."

Linda felt a wave of relief wash over her. "Really?" she asked Maze.

Maze nodded. "Really. I'm not happy about the lying, but I guess I kind of see why you did it. I didn't give you a lot of options."

Linda breathed out. "That's such good news, Maze. I've really missed you." Just to be certain, she added, "So, we're good?"

Maze nodded again. "You and me - we're good. Me and him...," she pointed at Constantine. "We have some unfinished business."

* * *

Linda Martin sat back in her therapist's chair and let out a long, deep sigh. It was after six in the evening and she'd spent a full day seeing patients. The good news was that she was going to finish the evening by having dinner with Maze. She'd been looking forward to it all day.

She gathered her purse and few files, then stood up. Before she could make it to the office door, however, her cell phone buzzed, signaling a text.

 _Oh crap_. She hoped Maze wasn't having a change of heart.

She looked at her phone. The text wasn't from Maze. It was from an unknown number.

**_Everything okay there, Doc? R u and Maze best mates again?_ **

She smiled. **_Yes, we're good, John_. _How about u? U survived the wrath of Mazikeen?_**

A pause. Then: _**Yes**_. **_Good thing I know a few vanishing spells._**

She smiled and rolled her eyes. Before she could come up with a response, her phone buzzed again: _**Let me know what happens with Amenadiel. If it doesn't work out, u and I could give it a try. We could be good 2-together.**_

Well, that was unexpected. She typed **:** _ **You mean if I ever decide to give it up for an ordinary bloke?**_

No pause this time. The response came right back: _ **Linda, you should know by now that I'm no ordinary bloke.**_

She laughed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I enjoyed season 3 of "Lucifer," particularly the arc they wrote for Charlotte. One of the few things I wasn't crazy about was the disagreement between Maze and Linda. It might have worked for one or two episodes, but they dragged it out and Linda felt out of character to me. She's a smart woman and she's nobody's doormat, so I was surprised when she gave Amenadiel up. 
> 
> I can't wait to see what Netflix does as they take over for season 4. Without the constraint of an 8:00 broadcast-TV timeslot, I imagine it may get very interesting.


End file.
